A YEAR IN EUROPE. 




THE REV. JOSEPH CROSS, D.D. 



EDITED BY 

THOMAS 0. SUMMERS, D.D. 



Na8f)btlle, &tm.: 

SOUTHERN METHODIST PUBLISHING HOUSE. 

1858. 






^V 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by 

JOHN B. M'FERRIN, 

in the Clerk's office of the District Court for the Middle 
District of Tennessee. 



By transfer 

APR 6 1915 



STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY A. A. STITT, SOUTHERN METHODIST 
PUBLISHING HOUSE, NASHVILLE, TENN. 







Cttitfttds. 



93 



Dedication ix 

Preface xi 

CHAPTER I. 

INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE. 

A storm — The Persia — The passengers — A wreck — A fog — Worship — "The cerrrclc" 
— Sunrise— Anchorage — An attack of Bacchus — An arrest — A fatal accident — A 
warning to smokers — Warm reception on shore 17 

CHAPTER II. 

MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 

Docks and shipping — .Historical and architectural — The Rev. Thomas Raffles, D.D. — 
The Rev. Hugh M'Neil, D.D. — Charitable institutions — Schools and societies — Li- 
braries and museums — William Roscoe — Mr. Thackeray 26 

CHAPTER III. 

A WEEK IN LONDON. 

Railway travel — Greatness of London — A morning mist — Our lodgings — Charges — 
Cab-drivers — Servants — The poor — Westminster Abbey — Gothic architecture — New 
Parliament buildings — British Museum — The Tower — Dr. Cumming — Mr. Spur- 
geon , 36 

CHAPTER IV. 

BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 

Dinner at Dover — Crossing the Channel — Calais — Cologne — The Cathedral — Shrine 
of the Three Kings — Church of Saint Ursula — Dom Glocke — Other churches— His- 
torical — Railway casualty — Serious mistake — Dresden — Romanism and Royalty — 
Frauenkirche — English worship 52 



CHAPTER V. 

EN ROUTE FOR VENICE. 

Saxon Switzerland — Speaking German — Smoking and smokers — Vienna — Baden — 
The Semmering — Valley of the Mur — Gratz — Cave of Adelsberg — The dreary 
Karst — Trieste — Across the Adriatic — Venetian fog 65 



IV CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER "VI. 

THE QUEEN OF THE ADRIATIC. 

Origin of the city — The Duomo — The Campanile — Pino prospect — Piazza and Piaz- 
zetta — The Ducal Palace — The Library — The Dungeons — Churches — The Rialto — 
ArtesiaD Wells — Adieu 75 

CHAPTER VII. 

MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 

Triumphal entry— The cathedral— The roof— The tower— Historical sketch of the 
city — St. Ambrose — San Carlo Borromeo 85 

CHAPTER VIII. 

TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 

Beautiful country — Another peep into the night-gowns — Novara — View of the Alps 
— Battle-fields — Alessandria — Crossing the Apennines — Genoa — English chapel — 
Seeing the city — Christopher Columbus — The cathedral — A relic — Leghorn — Monte 
Nero — Italian names — Civita Vecchia — Gasperoni and the Pope — Tete-a-tete with a 
priest — "A friend in need" — The diligence — Rome 96 

CHAPTER IX. 

FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 

Seeking apartments — Settled, unsettled, and resettled — The Sabbath — Priestly des- 
potism — A little leaven — Street spectacles— Blessings for beasts — Beggars — Pano- 
rama-lecture — The city of the Ctesars — The city of the Popes 108 

CHAPTER X. 

VETTURA TO TERRACINA. 

Troublesome Facchino — Across the Campagna — Albano — La Riccia — Velletri — Cis- 
terna — Cora and Norma — A race for bajocchi — Pontine Marshes — Foro Appio — 
Forward again — Monte Circello — Terracina 122 

CHAPTER XI. 

"WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 
A wild story of the Alps — A tender story of Mount Anxur 133 

CHAPTER XII. 

JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 

Wayside glimpses — Pondi — Ttri — Cicero's tomb and Formian villa — Extensive pros- 
pect — Gaeta — Water-nymphs — Valley of the Liris — Sant' Agata— Sessa — Capua — 
Aversa — Naples — History — Population — Trade — Fortifications 154 



CONTENTS. V 

CHAPTER XIII. 

NAPOLI LA BELLA. 

Environs — Villa Reale — Chiese de Partu — Poetry — A picture — Burying in churches 
— Grotta di Posilipo— Tomb of Virgil— The cathedral— Church of St. Paul— Other 
churches — Royal Palace — Capodimonte — The Camaldoli 168 

CHAPTER XIV. 

MOUNT VESUVIUS. 

The ascent — The summit — Ancient condition — Grand eruption of A.D. 79 — Constant 
changes — Other eruptions — View from the top — Descent — Various impressions. 179 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE BURIED CITIES. 

Museo Borbonico — Works of art — Domestic articles — Herculanenm — The theatre — 
" New excavation" — Pompeii — Temples — " Street of Abundance" — Theatre — Mis- 
cellaneous objects — Via Appia — Villa of Diomede 192 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 

Nocera — La Cava — Beautiful scenery — The convent — Charming drive — Amalfl — Its 
history — Beggars and begging — Wild night-scene — Monte Sant' Angelo — Courage, 
maccaroni, and cheese — Glorious prospect — Castellamare — Plain of Sorrento — The 
town and its antiquities — Poetic curiosity 205 

CHAPTER XVII. 

A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 

Punta di Posilipo — Bagnoli — Nisida — Pozzuoli — Monte Nuovo — Lago d'Avorno — 
View from the cliff — Curna? — Balse — Promontorium Misenum — The Solfatara — 
Lago d'Agnano — Grotta del Cane — Fuorigrotta — Frightful assault — Caserta — Ca- 
pua — Adieu to Naples 219 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE CRADLE AND THE THRONE OF ROME. 

The Palatine and the Domus Aurea — Present appearance — The Capitol — Its destruc- 
tion — Its restoration — Temple of Jupiter — Its influence and utility — Present build- 
ings — Forum Romanum — Julian Forum — Augustan Forum — Forum of Nerva — 
Forum of Trajan — Fora Venalia — Temple of Peace — Flavian Amphitheatre.... 231 

CHAPTER XIX. 

MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 

Millearium Aureum — Via Appia— Other Roman roads— Cloacaj — Aqueducts — Foun- 
tains— Therma? of Diocletian — Thermae of Titus — Thermse of Caracalla — Thermos 
of Agrippa, of Constantine. of Alexander Severus — Circus Maximus — Circus of 
Maxentius — Temple of Quirinus — Temple of the Sun — Porticoes 243 



VI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XX. 

THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS M A R T ITT S . 

The fame of the Tiber — Its reputation vindicated — The Campus Martius — Its ruined 
structures — Mausoleum of Augustus — Mausoleum of Hadrian — Roman architect- 
ure — Its characteristics — Its history — Borromini and his school — Reflections.. 257 

CHAPTER XXI. 

HISTORIC NOTICES. 

Home under the emperors — Extent of the city— Estimate of population — Vice and 
luxury — Gothic devastation — Feuds of the nobles — Rome of the middle ages — Pil- 
lage by the imperial troops — Papal restorations and improvements— Sixtus the 
Fifth — Subsequent popes — French occupation under Napoleon — Pio Nono 272. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

BASILICA VATICANTJS. 

View from a distance — View from the piazza — The interior — The roof — The dome — 
The ball 289 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 

Influence of Borromini upon the style of sacred architecture — Church of St. Cle- 
ment — San Pietro in Vincoli — San Martino e San Sylvestro — Santa Cecilia in Tras- 
tevera — San Pietro in Montorio— Santa Maria in Trastevera — San Lorenzo — -II Gesu 
— Ara Coeli — Santa Maria Maggiora — San Giovanni in Laterano — San Paolo Fuori 
la Mura — Sant' Onofrio — Santa Maria ad Martyres — San Stephano Rotondo 299 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

PALACES AND VILLAS. 

Roman palaces — Palazzo Doria — Palazzo Ruspoli — Palazzo Corsini — Palazzo Bar- 
barini — Palazzo Borghese — Palazzo Farnese — Palazzo Colonna — Palazzo Spada — 
Palazzo Pontificio — Palazzo Vaticano — Suburban villas — Villa Farnese — A r illa Ne- 
groni — Villa Panifilidoria — Villa Madama — Villa Borghese — Similarity of these 
villas 314 

CHAPTER XXV. 

ANTEMNE AND FIDENE. 

Solitary ramble on the Campagna — Interesting view — Fierce dogs — A ruin — Walk to 
Antemne — Charcoal sketch — A soldier artist — Site of the city — Great battle-ground 
— Ponte Salaro — Scene of Nero's suicide — Necropolis and citadel of Fidene — His- 
torical sketch 324 



CONTENTS. Vll 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 

Historical sketch — Our visit — The Campagna — Isola Farnese — Antonio Taleri — Tar- 
peian Rock — Utter desolation — Ponte Sodo — Necropolis — Painted tomb — Forum of 
Roman Municipium — Columbaria — Second and third visits — Additional discove- 
ries — Serpents — Piazza d'Armi — Temple of Juno — La Scaletta — Grotta Campana — 
Return to Rome 335 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

TRIP TO TIVOLI. 

Basilica of San Lorenzo — "Wayside glimpses— The Solfatara — Tomb of Plautius — 
"Villa of Adrian — Ancient Tibur — Modern Tivoli — Temples of Vesta and the Sybil — 
Roman villas — Pleasant prospects — An Italian tempest — Return to Rome 355 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE ALBAN MOUNT. 

Strada Ferrata to Frascati — Antonio — Villa Rufinella — Tusculum — Cicero's Villa — 
The Alban Lake — Alba Longa — Emisario — Ruins of Roman villas — Castel Gondol- 
pho — La Biccia— II rosignuolo — Lanuvium — A priest at play — Nemi — Floating 
palace — Monte Cavo — Return to Rome 364 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 

Excursion — Churches of Sant' Agnesia and Santa Constantia — Mons Sacer — Cata- 
combs of Sant' Alessandro — Tombs and Columbaria — Church of Domine Quo Vadis 
— Catacombs of San Calistro and San Sebastiano — Sepulchre of Cecilia Metella — Mis- 
cellaneous perambulations— La Chiesa del Gesu — The music — The sermon — The 
collection — The illumination — The effect — Disinterested benevolence — Remarks 
on preaching— Release from purgatory — Rome is finished 379 

CHAPTER XXX. 

FROM ROME TOFLORENCE. 

Last view of St. Peter's — Monte Soracte — Civita Castellana — Camillus and the School- 
master — The Umbrian Hills — Ocricoli — Narni — Terni and its Falls — Short method 
with beggars — Spoletto — The Clitumnus — Foligno — Spello — Santa Maria Degli 
Angel — Assisi — Saint Francis and his Order — Grotta Dei Volumui — The Etruscans 
— Perugia — Battle of Thrasymenus — The Papal frontier — Brigands 395 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE CITY OP FLOWERS. 

The beauty of Florence — Comparison with Rome — Cathedral and Campanile — Other 
interesting objects and localities — Poetry — Hiram Power — Fine arts — Rape of the 
Sabines — Ufiizi gallery — Michael Angelo— Pitti palace — The Flying Ass — Agricul- 
tural fair — Blasphemy of art 411 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 

Environs of Florence — Pisa — Grand illumination — Past and present — Leghorn — Pra- 
tolina — Summit of the Apennines — Covigliajo — Miniature volcano — Poveri Infe- 
lice — Harvest wages — Mountain scenery — Bologna — Ferrara — Padua — Venice 
again — The Peter Martyr — line churches — Solemn stillness of the city — Across 
Lombardy — The picturesque — Farewell to Italy — The Alps — The Tete Noire — Mag- 
nificent Iris — From Mont Blanc to London 422 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 

Forty-ninth cousin — Illustrious ancestry — Laying of a foundation-stone — Tea-party 
number one— Tea-party number two> — Tea-party number three — Tea-party number 
four — Tea-party number five — Tea-party number six — Tea-party number seven — 
Tea-party number eight — Anecdote of Mr. Spurgeon 437 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 

Croly — Melvill — Hamilton — Sketch of the late Edward Irving — Critical estimate of 
"the modern Whitefield" 456 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

PLEASANT VARIETIES. 

The Browns — Richmond Hill — Thomson — Bushy Park — Hampton Court — Cardinal 
Wolsey — Royal residents — Varieties — Great Western Railway — Official dignity — 
Clevedon — Myrtle Cottage — Promenade and prospect — Clevedon Court — Wrington 
— Weston Super Mare — Interesting antiquities 475 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 

Tender recollections — Uphill — The old church — Ancient fortifications — The Steep 
Holmes — A legend — The Flat Holmes — Bleadon Hobbs's boat — Lympsham church 
and rectory — Brent Knoll — Delightful view — Burnham and the rest 492 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

HEART -RE CORDS. 

Home of my childhood — Interesting colloquy — Across the daisy-fields to Lympsham 
— The Wesleyan chapel — Another colloquy— The parish church — The churchyard 
and its occupants — An old friend — East Brent church — South Brent church — An 
evening scene— The Burnham Bells — "Hail, Columbia!" 505 



A YEAE IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER I. 

INCIDENTS OP THE VOYAGE. 

A STORM — THE PERSIA — THE PASSENGERS — A WRECK — A FOG — WOR- 
SHIP "THE CERRRCLE" SUNRISE ANCHORAGE AN ATTACK OP 

BACCHUS AN ARREST A FATAL ACCIDENT A WARNING TO SMOK- 
ERS — WARM RECEPTION ON SHORE. 



To break the dull monotony 

Of an Atlantic trip, 
Sometimes, alas ! we ship a sea, 

And sometimes see a ship. 

Frances Osgood. 

It was past midday, on the sixth of December, 1856, 
when we took tender leave of our friends in Charleston, and 
stepped on board the steamship Nashville, as happy and 
hopeful a triad as ever embarked for a voyage. The wind 
blew rough and cold from the north-east, and dull leaden 
clouds hung over the sea, prophetic of a stormy passage, 
with gastric tribulation. And well did Boreas redeem his 
pledge, and large was the tribute which we severally paid to 
Neptune. Seldom, I ween, without actual shipwreck, have 
three seafarers suffered more in three days than we. But 
amidst it all, hope hung the heavens with rainbows, and 



18 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

every billow blossomed as it broke. Sallie beard Mozart's 
Zauber-Flote in tbe wailing of the winds, and steeped her 
soul in seas of Grerman melody. Jennie saw Raffaelle's Trans- 
figuration of the Redeemer, or Domenichino's Communion 
of Saint Jerome, in every cloud that sailed across the sky; 
and Venuses, and Apollos, and Mercurys, and Jupiters, con- 
stantly springing from the surf. As for the scribe, while he 
lay in the slumberous delirium of the mal de mer, or looked 
out from his little window upon the seething floods, every 
surge became a Brent-Knoll, and every sound of the waters 
brought the sweet murmur of Burnham Beach, and the wind 
that so fiercely contested our progress seemed odorous with 
the breath of cowslips from Lympsham, and primroses from 
Bleadon, and wallflowers from his grandmother's garden. 

On the morning of the ninth we are in New York, early 
enough to secure good state-rooms in the Persia, and enjoy 
an evening with Bishop Janes and his family, and some 
hours with sundry other friends of former years ; and at six 
the next evening, under a fair breeze and a full moon, with 
a sea as calm as the Cayuga, we stand bravely out to the 
broad Atlantic. How majestically beautiful is this floating 
palace, three hundred and ninety feet long, and built in four 
compartments, any one of which is deemed sufficient to 
keep her afloat if the others should fill with water ! On the 
deck, at the table, in the state-rooms, how admirable is the 
order observed, inspiring in the passengers a delightful con- 
fidence of security, and giving an attractiveness even to the 
sea ! Her population, exclusive of officers, sailors, and ser- 
vants, is a hundred and seventy souls, chiefly English, Irish, 
and Scotch, a few French and German, with a sprinkling 
of New England salt. There is a Roman Catholic bishop on 
board — quite plethoric enough for the profession — a talka- 
tive, intelligent, and altogether agreeable man ; with his 
brother, a well-informed gentleman, but rather too frank for 



INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE. 19 

a Jesuit, who eight or ten years ago accompanied the enter- 
prising prelate on his "American mission," in the character 
of a priest, " rather by way of frolic than otherwise," and 
appears to have kept up his clerical fun ever since. We 
have also Mr. Osgood, the American artist, to our company - } 
a man of genial mood and various knowledge, with a history 
which ought to be written ; attended by his wife, an amiable 
lady, who has enjoyed the advantages of extensive travel. 
Opposite us at the table sit three British officers from Can- 
ada, one of them a son of the Lord Primate of Ireland, two 
of them well freighted with incidents of the Crimean cam- 
paign, and all of them overflowing with genuine Irish wit. 
A lady who has evidently seen something of the world, and 
is now returning to her home in the land of potatoes and of 
hearts, affords us much amusement with the accounts she 
gives us of her countrymen, whom she very seriously pro- 
nounces " the most generous, the most eloquent, and the 
most deceitful people in the world." Last, though not 
least, if you may judge from the attention shown him, 
especially by officers and stewards of the ship, here is Tom 
Thumb, alias Charles Stratton, nearly twenty years old, but 
less than three feet high, and as diminutive in intellect as 
in stature, with his mother, brother-in-law, and a fiscal agent, 
on his way to. England, where he is to spend the next two 
years in exhibiting his insignificance. 

Few were the incidents of our voyage. Some of us, 
chiefly the ladies, were pretty well occupied, especially when 
the weather was a little rough, with their own personal mat- 
ters ; and with the rest, conversation and reading made the 
time pass pleasantly. On the evening of the third day out 
we passed the hull of a large schooner, dismasted and 
apparently abandoned of her crew ; but did not pause, I 
know not why, to investigate her condition. On the Banks 
of Newfoundland, as generally happens, we were enveloped 



20 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

in a dense fog, through which a sail could not possibly have 
been seen a hundred yards ; yet the Persia never slackened 
her speed, but two men with tin horns at the bows blew 
perpetual warning to whatever might chance to be in our 
way, and every fifth minute the great steam-whistle sent ter- 
rific cautions over the deep. 

The Sabbath dawned. Worship, according to the ritual 
of Her Majesty's Church, must be performed on board Her 
Majesty's steamships. But in this instance, where is the 
clergyman ? There is none, and the captain must officiate. 
All hands are summoned, by the tolling of the bell, to the 
long dining-saloon. Most of the passengers are present, and 
as many of the sailors and stewards, I suppose, as can be 
spared from duty, making in all about three hundred per- 
sons. The bishop and the frolicking priest are not of the 
company, though evidently they ought, in all consistency, to 
recognize the principle which ignores the clerical character 
of the present scribe. We are all furnished with prayer- 
books, and the service is solemnly read, and the responses 
are general and hearty. In the midst of the prayers, the 
lay-parson very properly interpolates the petition of the 
Protestant Episcopal Church for "the President of the 
United States, and all others in authority." Then follows a 
sermon from Dr. Blair : " Boast not thyself of to-morrow, 
for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." Very 
appropriate, certainly; but no one can deny that Captain 
Judkins prays better than he preaches ; and I flatter myself, 
all ungowned as I am, I might have read that sermon quite 
as well myself. A very serious thought it is, that never in 
this world shall we all worship together again ; and most 
sincerely is the prayer breathed, at least by some of the wor- 
shippers, that we may all hereafter meet in heaven. 

Travellers on shipboard have often to pay for their inex- 
perience. One day I went to the bow, and stood looking 



INCIDENTS OP THE VOYAGE. 21 

out over the sea. When I turned around, a sailor stood 
at my side, with a wrinkle of ineffable mischief in his face. 
"D'ye see, Serrr," said he, pointing to a chalk line which 
he had drawn around me upon the deck, " I've put ye in 
the cerrrcle !" "0 no," I replied, "that is not a circle — 
only a semicircle." "Faith," rejoined he, "and sure it 
isn't the likes of yer Honor that'll be getting off in that way : 
I thought yer Honor wouldn't mind giving a pore fellow the 
price of a terrrkey for Christmas." "And what is the price 
of a turkey ?''" I demanded. " 0, the matther of a dollar in 
Leverpole, or a dollar and a quarther for a fat one." I 
handed him fifty cents. " Indade, yer Honor," said he, with 
something akin to a sigh, "and ye wouldn't be afther put- 
ting us off with half a dollar : it isn't like yer counthry 
entirely." " But I fear you will spend that for whiskey," I 
answered. " I'm sure I never dhrinks a dhrop, yer Honor, 
nor haven't for these seven years agone; and besides, I've 
got a wife and fower children in Corrrk." For his elo- 
quence, more than his wit, I duplicated the fifty cents ; and 
enjoyed the giving quite as much, I doubt not, as he the 
receiving. 

It was the last morning of our voyage. A calmer sea, 
and a clearer sky, could not well be imagined. We were glid- 
ing along the coast of the Emerald Isle. With one of the 
young officers aforesaid, I went on deck to look at the frag- 
ments of an ancient castle. At the same moment the sun 
on the opposite side began to emerge from the watery hori- 
zon, clothed with so soft a radiance that the eye could gaze 
steadily upon him without pain. When about one-third of 
his form became visible, a ship under full sail, but so distant 
as to appear only a minute speck, passed slowly across his disk. 
Till it entered the edge of the sun, it was invisible; and as 
soon as its little transit was accomplished, became invisible 
again — an emblem of many things, chiefly of human life. 



22 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

During the following night we took a pilot, and before 
morning dropped anchor in the Mersey; having been just 
nine days and two hours, allowing for difference of time, 
between New York and Liverpool. What would have been 
thought of this fifty years ago ? When I first crossed the 
ocean, in 1825, we were nearly six weeks from Bristol to 
Quebec, and it was not regarded as a very tedious voyage. 
Verily, a little more speed, with the addition of the Sub- 
Atlantic Telegraph, would almost practically realize the 
Apocalyptic prophecy, "There shall be no more sea;" and 
whoever has experienced the horrors of sea-sickness — the 
true hydrophobia — or seen those whom he loves writhing in 
the exquisite indifference of that detestable epidemic of the 
deep, will surely say, "Amen." 

Two of our fellow-passengers had evidently suffered, dur- 
ing the night, a violent attack from Bacchus, for they were 
still reeling from the effect of his blows. One of them was 
a son of the Green Isle ; and our female friend, his shrewd 
countrywoman, satisfactorily accounted for his condition, 
by assuring us, as Miss Edgeworth had done before, that 
" drunkenness is the natural state of the Irish." Another, 
who was slightly convalescent, appeared drooping and mel- 
ancholy. I inquired after the cause. One of the company 
replied : " That gentleman sat up all night watching for the 
pilot." "And did he see him V said I. " yes," an- 
swered my informant, " he saw two." This was a country- 
man of ours. 

Before we went ashore, an officer, who had been sent for 
by the captain, came on board, and arrested one of our fel- 
low-passengers as a swindler. He had embarked at New 
York without paying his fare ; and when discovered, three 
days afterward, had but one and sixpence in his pocket. He 
called himself Baron somebody, and professed to have been 
an attachd of the Prussian Legation at Washington; but as 



INCIDENTS OP THE VOYAGE. 23 

he could give no satisfactory account of his condition, he 
was sent forward to the second cabin. His manner was very 
peculiar, and some suspected his mental sanity, while others 
thought he must be laboring under some great sorrow, with 
which a stranger might not intermeddle. The captain, how- 
ever, seemed to be of a different opinion ; and as the poor 
man had neither friends nor money, he was sent to prison, 
and I never learned the sequel. 

Another case was still more melancholy. The second 
officer of the ship, soon after we came to anchor, received an 
accidental blow ; and on Monday they bore him to his grave. 
Pie was a handsome young man, noble-spirited, and full of 
genial soul. I had often admired his fine open countenance 
during the voyage, and had a pleasant chat with him the 
night before the accident, in which he spoke freely of his 
plans for the future, and dwelt with manifest pleasure upon 
his prospect of success ; but a sudden blight fell upon his 
blooming hopes, and his sun went down at noon j and how 
forcibly returned to me the text to which we had listened a 
few days before ! " Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou 
knowest not what a day may bring forth." 

Of course we could not land till our baggage had passed'' 
the scrutiny of the custom-house officials. These worthy 
functionaries, however, were early at their posts, and fully 
sustained their reputation. 0, the pity, to see piles of manu- 
factured tobacco, and parcels of fragrant cigars, brought 
forth from their concealment among soiled linen and New 
York Heralds, ruthlessly turned out upon the deck, and 
remorselessly taxed from ten to twenty shillings per pound ! 
Verily, it was almost enough to make one subscribe to the 
long-exploded maxim : " Honesty is the best policy." And 
then, the unprofitable rage of some of the innocent propri- 
etors, who of course never thought of violating or evading 
the law, though they had ten times the quantity of tobacco 



24 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

■ 
and cigars that the law allows free of duty; and the silent 

shame with which others of them opened their unwilling 

wallets, and gathered up their costly luxuries — ah ; was it 

not " a caution I" Sensible reader, hadst thou been there, 

thou wouldst have forsworn Havanas for ever ! 

But tell me, ye travelled sages, why are these inquisitors 
of contraband wares so particular in the examination of 
ladies' apparel ? Does the fact imply a tacit imputation upon 
the honesty of the sex ? It was so here ; it was so every- 
where upon the continent. Frequently, when the scribe's 
baggage passed unopened, that of his fair travelling compan- 
ions was quite narrowly scrutinized. In the present in- 
stance, however, we came off much better than some of the 
rest. Whether it was because I waited patiently till they 
were weary of their cruel work, or because our trunks had a 
look of honest leanness, and ourselves no odor of the Indian 
weed ; for some reason or another, these faithful servants of 
Her Majesty gave us very little trouble, opening only one of 
our three pieces, and peeping into the folds of the first robe 
de chambre they discovered. 

Before ten the ordeal was over, a passport pasted on every 
box and parcel, and we prepared to set foot upon Her Ma- 
jesty's soil. But the excitement of the morning, in addi- 
tion to her recent sea-sickness, had proved too much for poor 
Sallie's nervous system, and she was found in violent spasms 
upon her state-room floor. This accident delayed our land- 
ing an hour or two ; but when at length we landed, most 
marvellous were the courtesies which we received. Monsieur 
la Grenouille is generally reputed the politest specimen of 
the genus homo; but if this was a true exhibition of the 
character of John Bull, his neighbor across the Channel 
must certainly yield him the palm. No sooner had our sole- 
leather touched the wharf, than each of us was assailed by 
at least a dozen persons, men and boys ; every one of whom 



INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE. 25 

seemed ready, from excess of kindness, to tear us to pieces, 
or swallow us alive. Such pushing and pulling, such thrust- 
ing and thumping, I certainly never saw in my life ; with 
all sorts of menacing and reviling; with noises articulate, 
and noises inarticulate; but no bowie-knives, nor shillelahs. 
Taking Sallie by the two arms, we ran the gauntlet for about 
two hundred yards, and took refuge in the first carriage we 
came to ; but before we had time to recover breath for mu- 
tual congratulation on our fortunate escape, a dozen heads 
were thrust in at the windows, vociferously demanding pay 
for procuring hacks, and carrying trunks, and all sorts of 
services which we had not received. Jehu saved us by driv- 
ing suddenly away, and left the clamorous throng gazing and 
running and shouting after us ; but for which merciful incivil- 
ity of Jehu, there is no telling what might have been our fate. 
Somehow, as by whirlwind — I never did understand the pre- 
cise manner — we soon reached the Adelphi, where we found 
ourselves in comfortable quarters, and where we remained 
forty-eight hours, and had all our wants supplied, for the 
moderate sum of £5.11s.6d — a little more than $26.50 ! 



2G A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER II. 

MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 

DOCKSS AND SHIPPING — HISTORICAL AND ARCHITECTURAL — THE REV. 
THOMAS RAFFLES, D. D. THE REV. HUGH M'NEIL, D. D. CHARI- 
TABLE INSTITUTIONS SCHOOLS AND SOCIETIES LIBRARIES AND 

MUSEUMS WILLIAM ROSCOE MR. THACKERAY. 



His words had such a melting flow, 

And spoke the truth so sweetly well, 
They dropped like heaven's serenest snow, 

And all was brightness where they fell. ' 

The two things most likely to strike a stranger on enter- 
ing Liverpool are its docks and its shipping. The former 
extend along the right bank of the Mersey nearly or quite 
five miles, and have cost in their construction several mil- 
lions sterling. The area of one of them is ten acres, and of 
another fifteen. They are so united that vessels may pass 
from one to another without entering the river. The 
Huskison Dock, for the ocean steamers, is of great strength 
and vast extent. The shipping, crowded together, and 
packed as closely as possible, along the whole line, looks 
like a forest stripped of its verdure. The number of ships 
belonging to the port is reckoned at twenty-two thousand, 
their aggregate tonnage at four and a half millions of tons ; 
and the exports are said to exceed by many millions not 



MATTEES AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 27 

only those of London ; but those of all the other ports of 
the kingdom. 

The history of Liverpool is full of interest. The name is 
derived from Lower Pool. As a borough, it is about seven 
hundred years old. It has a population of nearly or quite 
five hundred thousand. A hundred and fifty years ago 
there was only one person in it — Madam Clayton — who kept 
a carriage. The first public conveyance for passengers went 
hence to London in the year 1757, starting once a week, 
and performing the journey in four days. Some five or six 
railway trains now go every day, measuring the distance in 
seven hours. There was formerly a castle here and a tower, 
no traces of either of which are now to be found. The 
origin of the former is not known, but it is supposed to 
have been of very great antiquity. In John Howard's 
time it was used as a prison, and he visited its inmates as an 
angel of mercy. 

Liverpool has something more than two hundred places of 
worship ; forty of which belong to the Establishment, four- 
teen to the Wesleyans, eleven to the Papists, ten to the 
Baptists, eight to the Kirk of Scotland, seven to the Inde- 
pendents, three to the Unitarians, and above ninety to 
various other sects. Saint George's Hall is an imposing 
structure— one of the very finest in England. Saint John's 
Market exceeds any thing of the sort I ever saw at home ; 
and when lighted up at night looks decidedly attractive. 
Saint James's Cemetery is a great curiosity in its way — a 
deep excavation in the rocks — originally a quarry, but now 
converted into a repository for the dead. Legh Richmond 
was born in Liverpool, and so was Felicia Hemans, and many 
other notable personages. But let me speak of the living. 

I had for many years been familiar with the fame of tho 
Reverend Thomas Raffles, D. D., successor and biographer 
of the lamented Thomas Spencer, and confessedly the most 



28 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

elegant preacher in England. Through the politeness of 
Mr. James, a fellow-passenger on board the Persia, and an 
officer in Dr. Raffles's church, I obtained a seat with him on 
Sabbath morning. The edifice is spacions and beautiful. 
It has a gallery all around, one end of which is occupied by 
the choir and a powerful organ. The seats below are semi- 
circular, so that every hearer sits facing the preacher. At 
the moment the bell ceased tolling, a venerable and very be- 
nignant-looking man ascended the pulpit; and after a few 
moments spent in silent prayer, and a few more in arranging 
the book-marks, commenced the service. The very first 
tones of his voice stirred the depths of my soul. I never 
heard a hymn read more naturally, more touchingly, in my 
life. Then followed a lesson from the Old Testament, a 
long prayer, full of subdued and holy pathos, a second 
hymn, another long prayer, and finally the sermon. The 
preacher had chosen for his text the words of Saint Paul : 
" I have a desire to depart, and to be with Christ, which is 
far better." It seems that some lady member of his flock, 
a person of great worth, had died during the week, and 
this was the funeral sermon. Most delightfully did the 
preacher dwell on the Christian's departure, his residence 
with Christ, and its contrast with his present state. The 
church will seat twenty-five hundred ; it was full above and 
below ; and throughout the whole discourse the audience sat 
as if perfectly entranced by the speaker. When he came to 
speak of the deceased, of what the church had lost in one 
of its most devoted members, and what he had lost in one 
of his most valued friends, his deep musical voice became 
tremulous with emotion, and the tears flowed freely down 
his venerable face. The manner in which he commands 
the profoundest attention of his hearers, and sways their 
feelings at will, after having ministered to them for more 
than thirty years, is a very remarkable testimony to his 



MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 29 

superior talents and piety. At the close of the service Mr. 
James conducted me into the vestry, and gave me a personal 
introduction to the preacher. I told him that I had long 
known him through his writings, especially his Life of 
Spencer ; that I had first read that work about twenty-five 
years ago, and it proved a great blessing to me in the earlier 
part of my ministry. He replied, with a delightful warmth : 
" This is not the first time, my brother, that I have had 
occasion to thank God that I ever wrote that book." "We 
then conversed about Spencer, and passed from him to the 
American ministry ; and when I arose to depart, he invited 
me very cordially to tea with him in the evening, but other 
engagements obliged me to decline. 

The evening came, and we went to hear another famous 
divine of Liverpool — the Keverend Hugh McNeil, D. D. 
A cab-drive of twenty minutes brought us to a very large 
cruciform church, in one of the suburbs of the city. A 
man in a black gown met us in the aisle, and conducted us 
to seats near the pulpit. In, a few moments Dr. McNeil and 
his curate entered the reading-desk together. The prayers 
were read by the latter, the lessons by the former. After 
this he ascended the pulpit, offered a brief extempore 
prayer, then stood up, with a small pocket Bible in his 
hand, and began his sermon. His voice is like the bass of 
an organ, and he manages it with admirable skill. His 
enunciation is remarkably distinct, and occasionally his em- 
phasis is terrible. There were passages in the discourse 
when every sentence fell upon the heart like rough masses 
of ice. His manner and style furnish a perfect contrast to 
those of Dr. Raffles. He is entirely conversational, and 
there seems to be no effort at eloquence ; but whoever hears 
him must feel that the preacher is deeply in earnest, and 
there are occasional paragraphs of overwhelming power. 
His elocution reminds one of Dr. Samuel H. Cox, of Brook- 



30 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

lyn, or Dr. Lyman Beecher, of Boston, though it is more 
varied than either, and somewhat more effective. His stylo 
is concise and sententious, but not mechanical — occasionally, 
when it suits the thought, quite rough and angular. The 
Rev. Dr. Gumming lately said to me : " Make Dr. McNeil's 
voice a barytone, and give him a little more personal 
majesty, and a great deal more pomp of diction, and you 
have Edward Irving : even as he is, he approaches Irving 
more nearly than any man I ever heard ; but he is not equal 
to Irving." Dr. McNeil is a staunch Millennarian, and puts 
forth his views of the end in all his preaching. " I say- 
nothing of the time/' said he; "I know nothing of that: 
there is a prophetic chronology, and those who make it 
longest bring the end now very near." Terrible, indeed, 
was the picture which he drew of the last days — the out- 
pouring of the vials of wrath upon the guilty nations of 
Christendom. Severely did he lash the sins of England — 
dishonesty, hypocrisy, political corruption, spiritual wicked- 
ness in high places. " Whatever the judgment be, and 
whenever it come," said he, " be assured Britain shall have 
her share ; and whatever that share, she has deserved it : 
there is blood upon her gold, her hands are full of bribes, 
and the sufferings of her poor appeal to Heaven !" One 
would think Dr. McNeil, from his physiognomy, rather 
dogmatical, perhaps ; yet he does not dogmatize, but treads 
lightly and cautiously whenever he approaches the limits of 
controversy. It seemed strange to me to hear one of the 
most famous men of the English Church preaching an hour 
and a quarter without notes, and with all the force and 
fervor that an American Methodist could desire; but so 
preached that evening the Rev. Dr. McNeil, and it was a 
specimen of his ordinary preaching. No man in Liverpool 
wields a greater moral power than he. "Ah, but he is a 
firebrand in the Church, sir," said a railway fellow-traveller 



MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 31 

the next day; "he can never be quiet himself, nor suffer 
others to be quiet." " Would to Heaven," I answered, 
" there were many more such firebrands in the Church ! the 
clergy have been quiet too long, and Rome has been reaping 
England while her husbandmen have slept." " But he is 
perfectly fanatical, sir; he is equal to the "Wesleyans." 
"And you could hardly pay him a higher compliment : but 
for the Wesleyan revival, it is difficult to say what would 
now have been the condition of the Establishment ; it is 
undeniably much better than it was when Wesley began his 
career." My friend thought it " vain to reason with one as 
fanatical as McNeil himself," and here ended our conversa- 
tion. But that Sabbath in Liverpool will ever be remem- 
bered as one of the great days of my life. 

Before I take leave of this interesting city, I ought to say 
something of its charitable institutions, for the multiplica- 
tion and promotion of which no man has done more than 
Dr. McNeil. They are very numerous, and highly creditable 
to the community. " The magnitude and stateliness of the 
buildings devoted to benevolent purposes, and the enormous 
sums of money contributed for their support, furnish an 
interesting illustration of the expansive power of Christian- 
ity upon the human heart. It is often urged against such 
institutions that their influence upon character is injurious 
to society; that reliance upon eleemosynary aid is unfavorable 
to that spirit of independence so essential to industry; that 
indiscriminate charity produces selfishness and indolence, 
and thus creates the evils which it aims to cure ; that the 
keen sense of want is the strongest impulse to labor, and 
virtue itself would be unpracticed but for the sharp goad- 
ings of necessity. There may be something of truth in all 
this ; but without such institutions, what were the condition 
of the English, and what the world's estimate of English 
Christianity ? True, men ought not to bo taught, if it can 



32 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

be avoided, that they may live more easily by idleness than 
by industry ; but this is one of the incidental evils attendant 
upon systematic benevolence, and it were certainly better 
that some should abuse the bounty of their benefactors, than 
that ten times the number should perish without a helper. 
The multiplication of charities, therefore, is after all a safe 
subject of congratulation among Christians; and if vicious 
indolence will take such unworthy advantage of our philan- 
thropy, the responsibility is wholly its own, and constitutes 
no justification of our indifference to the cries of suffering 
humanity. 

Among the most excellent institutions of Liverpool are 
those for the education of poor children. The war so long 
and nobly waged in their behalf has at length been crowned 
with complete victory. The acquisition of useful knowledge 
by the child is now admitted to be necessary to the welfare 
of the future man, and the proper discipline of the youthful 
mind and heart is practically recognized as the only perma- 
nent safety to society. The community seem to have awak- 
ened to the conviction that intelligence is essential to virtue, 
and that the union of the two constitutes the true basis of 
prosperity. The Parochial Schools, thirty-five in number, 
the Industrial Schools, where more than a thousand children 
are collected for education, and the Corporation Schools, 
which receive annually £2500 of the public money, are 
doing a noble work; and so are the Hibernian and Caledonian 
Schools, and the Schools of the "Wesleyans, the Independents, 
and other religious bodies. The Blue Coat Hospital educates 
nearly four hundred orphans, at an expense of not less than 
£4500 per annum. There are two other orphan asylums, 
which accommodate three hundred children, an admirable 
Seminary for the Training of Governesses, a School for the 
Deaf and Dumb, a School for the Indigent Blind, numerous 
Koman Catholic schools, a Jewish Educational Institute, and 



MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 33 

I know not what beside, all supported, in part at least, by 
charity. The hospitals, infirmaries, dispensaries, lunatic 
asylums, and the magnificent Sailors' Home, I pass over with 
a mere mention, as also the alms-houses, the Victuallers' Asso- 
ciation, the numerous ragged -schools, and Shoe-black Bri- 
gades. Nor can I dwell upon the Bible societies, prayer- 
book societies, homily societies, pastoral societies, Protestant 
societies, church-building societies, missionary societies, Sun- 
day-school societies, Scripture-readers' societies, religious 
tract societies, evangelical continental societies, societies for 
the promotion of Christian knowledge at home, and societies 
for the propagation of the gospel in foreign parts. And then 
you must add friendly societies, and brotherly societies, and 
mariners' societies, and provident societies, and Hibernian 
societies, and Caledonian societies, and emigration societies, 
and strangers' friend societies, and reformed pickpocket 
societies, and societies for the relief of distressed foreigners, 
and societies for the rescue of unfortunate females, and 
societies for the prevention of cruelty to animals, and fifteen 
or twenty more to complete the catalogue. 

The Free Library contains fifteen thousand volumes ; arid, 
together with the valuable museum, it is open to all classes, 
without distinction. There is another large library at the 
Athenaeum, instituted in 1797, containing many rare and 
curious works collected by the learned Roscoe, with speci- 
mens of the earliest periodical literature of Liverpool : the 
"Courant," of 1712, the "Advertiser," of 1756, the "Com- 
mercial Register," of 1766, the last-named having the fol- 
lowing notice: "For sale, by the candle, the hull of the 
Snow Molly. N. B. — Three young men, slaves, to be sold at 
the same time." The Royal Institute, founded by Wil&am. 
Roscoe in 1814, is one of the noblest and best conducted 
institutions of the city. It has connected with it a perma- 
nent gallery of arts ; the lower apartment filled with casts of 



d4 A YEAR IN EUROPE, 

the Elgin, Egina, and Phigalian marbles ; the upper exhibit- 
ing many good specimens of the ancient masters, with the 
whole rich collection of Roscoe ; and at one end of the room, 
a noble statue of the poet, executed by Sir Thomas Chan- 
trey, reminding the visitor of the beautiful lines addressed to 
him by one who knew how to estimate his character : 

Favored beyond each towering tree or grove, 
Glad and for ever green the laurel stands, 
Not to be plucked but by heroic hands, 

And sacred to the majesty of Jove: 

No lightning flash may smite it from above, 
No whirlwinds rend it from its rooted bands : 
Obedient to their master's high commands, 

They spare the chosen plant he deigns to love. 
So, midst the tumults of this mortal state, 

While thunders burst around and storms assail, 

The good man stands with eye and brow serene, 
In cloud or sunshine still inviolate, 

Confiding in a trust that cannot fail, 

A sacred laurel glad and ever green. 

Mr. Thackeray had just finished his lectures on the Four 
Georges when we arrived in Liverpool, and the press was 
handling him with great severity. Several passages pro- 
nounced in America seem to have been eliminated since his 
return to England, at least were omitted when he lectured 
in Liverpool. I suppose they were written for republican 
ears, and not for those of royalists. A Scotch reviewer says 
he goes through the house of Hanover as a policeman goes 
through the city, taking no notice of virtue and decency, 
but looking out everywhere for mischief and villainy. There 
is doubtless much justice in the criticism; but what would 
the critic say of what we heard a year before in Charleston ? 
And why should a public lecturer turn all history into satire ? 
Why should he dwell exclusively on the rascality of royalty, 



MATTERS AND THINGS IN LIVERPOOL. 35 

the hypocrisy of prelates, the quarrels and intrigues of cour- 
tiers, the faults and infirmities of greatness ? Was there 
nothing good or virtuous, nothing worthy of love or com- 
mendation ? Why, then, is it all ignored ? Is it because a 
fair and honest narration of historic facts "would not win so 
many hearers, or gather so many pounds into the lecturer's 
purse ? But is it right or honorable for a man of letters, 
like Mr. Thackeray, to accumulate gold by such means, and 
seek the applause of the living by caricaturing the dead ? 
Is it right or honorable for the mgst popular lecturer of the 
day to subordinate his noble talents, and all the arts of elo- 
quence, to the degradation of human character, already, 
doubtless, sufficiently degraded ; and make the finest diction, 
the keenest epigram, the most brilliant antithesis, and an 
elocution universally admired, the instruments of gain or 
glory to himself, and of infamy to those whose tongues have 
long been silent in the sepulchre ? 



3G A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER III. 

A "WEEK IN LONDON. 



RAILWAY TRAVEL — GREATNESS OF LONDON — A MORNING MIST — OUR 
LODGINGS CHARGES CAB - DRIVERS SERVANTS THE POOR WEST- 
MINSTER ABBEY GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE NEW PARLIAMENT BUILD- 
INGS BRITISH MUSEUM THE TOWER DR. GUMMING MR. SPURGEON. 



The lady she sate and she played on her lute, 

And she sung, "Will you come to the bower?" 
The sergeant-at-arms had stood hitherto mute, 
And now he advanced, like an impudent brute, 
And he said, "Will you come to the Tower V 

Monday morning, the twenty-first, in company with Mr. 
and Mrs. Osgood, we set forth for the far-famed British 
Babylon. The landscape of green fields and brown hedges, 
hills and vales, pools and streams, parks and gardens, mea- 
dows and orchards, mansions and cottages, farm-houses and 
factories, church-towers and smoke-steeples, grazing herds 
and trudging kettle-smocks, pretty rural villages and im- 
measurable heaps of coal, seemed one long piece of tapestry, 
unrolling at our side, as we rushed forward to our destina- 
tion. In eight hours we were comfortably settled in the 
heart of the civilized world. 0, what a pulse goes out hence 
to the extremities, throbbing not only throughout Europe 
and America, but also in India, China, Africa, and the 
islands of remotest seas ! 



A WEEK IN LONDON, 37 

It is not easy to comprehend the greatness of London. 
Panoramas, descriptions, statistics, give the stranger but 
meagre ideas of it. One must see it, and thread its labyrin- 
thian thoroughfares, and mingle with its teeming population, 
and hear the eternal din of its manifold activities. Yet if 
f figures can help thee, arithmetical reader, think of 1691 
births within an area of eight miles by five, the number 
actually registered for the week of our sojourn in the city. 
Think of 2,500,000 people — princes, nobles, bishops, divines, 
authors, teachers, soldiers, merchants, craftsmen, coachmen, 
cabmen, idlers, beggars, swindlers, gamblers, scavengers, cour- 
tesans, policemen, pickpockets, burden-bearers, ballad-singers, 
organ-grinders, besides Punch and Judy, with myriads of tran- 
sient sojourners from every part of the world — good and bad, 
great and small, wise and simple, clean and unclean, clothed 
and unclothed, housed and unhoused, huddled and heaped 
together, within so small a space, along the banks of a nar- 
row ditch, bridged above, tunnelled below, and thick with 
filth between. Think of 1,600,000 quarters of wheat, 240,- 
000 bullocks, 1,700,000 sheep, 28,000 calves, 32,000 pigs, 
4,000,000 salmon, 5,000,000 codfish, 2,500,000 soles, oysters 
and eels innumerable, sprats and shrimps incalculable, with 
whole mountains of cabbage, cauliflower, potatoes, turnips, 
carrots, parsnips, onions, beets, beans, peas, apples, peaches, 
plums, pears, grapes, currants, apricots, nectarines, medlars, 
untold quantities of butter and cheese, and a thousand other 
things, eatable and uneatable, annually washed down these 
human throats by* 43,200,000 gallons of malt liquors, 2,000,- 
000 gallons or more of distilled spirits, 65,000 pipes of vil- 
lainous compounds called wines, and not less than 1,500,000 
hogsheads of milk. Think of 24,000 tailors for ever plying 
the needle and the goose to furnish coats for all these backs ; 
30,000 seamstresses making shirts and trousers for them; 
28,000 hatters toiling to keep their heads covered from the 



d8 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

cold; 35,000 shoemakers stitching and hammering for the 
welfare of their feet; 40,000 milliners and mantuamakers 
to adorn their maids and matrons; 180,000 domestic ser- 
vants to minister to their needs and luxuries; 300,000 clerks 
selling them dry-goods and groceries ; and I know not how 
many editors and printers laboring for their information and 
amusement. This is London ! 

Now, if thou wilt remember that during the winter seventy 
thousand tons of coal, chiefly bituminous, are consumed 
every day within this crowded area, thou wilt not wonder at 
the everlasting twilight, and the occasional noonday dark- 
ness, in which the city is enveloped. The " London fog," 
as famous as London itself, consists of smoke mingling with 
the vapor which arises from the Thames, the sewers, and all 
damp and shady places. It is like nothing else in heaven or 
earth. Sometimes it is as green as a June-bug; but this is 
not the genuine, and a slight change in the barometer con- 
verts it into a white mist, and a gentle breeze soon lifts it 
away. At other times it is as yellow as pea-soup ; this is the 
prime article, a more solid and sensible than which even 
Pharaoh's capital could hardly have furnished — the very 
thing described in these lines by Henry Luttrel : 

First at the dawn of lingering day, 

It rises of an ashy gray ; 

Then deep'ning with a sordid stain 

Of yellow, like a lion's mane. 

Vapor importunate and dense, 

It is at once with every sense. 

The ears escape not: all around 

Keturns a dull, unwonted sound. 

Loth to stand still, afraid to stir, 

The chilled and puzzled passenger, 

Oft blundering from the pavement, fails 

To feel his way along the rails; 

Or at the crossings, in the roll 

Of every carriage, dreads the pole. 



A WEEK IN LONDON. 39 

Scarce an eclipse with pall so dun 
Blots from the face of heaven the sun. 
But soon a thicker, darker cloak 
Wraps all the town, behold, in smoke, 
Which steam-compelling trade disgorges- 
From all her furnaces and forges. 
In pitchy clouds too dense to rise, 
It falls rejected from the skies ; 
Till struggling day, extinguished quite, 
At noon gives place to candle-light. 

It has been ascertained, by accurate observation, that the 
London fog seldom rises much more than two hundred feet 
above the surface of the Thames. Therefore, the dwellers 
in the more elevated suburbs and environs enjoy an air of 
preeminent salubrity, while the lungs of those who inhabit 
the lower localities of the city are filtering the foulest atmo- 
sphere. Fifty-four years ago, Wordsworth sat on Westmin- 
ster Bridge, and wrote this charming sonnet : 

Earth has not any thing to show more fair; 

Dull would be he of soul who could pass by 

A sight so touching in its majesty: 
This city now doth like a garment wear 
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare, 

Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples, lie 

Open unto the fields, and to the sky, 
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. 

Never did sun more beautifully steep 
In his first splendor valley, rock, or hill: 

Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep: 
The river glideth at its own sweet will: 

Bear God! the very houses seem asleep, 
And all that mighty heart is lying still! 

A beautiful picture, but it was drawn in September, and 
such September mornings may sometimes be seen in the 
metropolis. Who ever saw such a morning here in Decern- 



40 A YEAE IN EUEOPE. 

ber ? Did we, during a week's sojourn, even behold the face 
of the sun? Twice or thrice we caught a momentary 
glimpse of a large round thing hanging in the sky, about 
the color of a dingy copper kettle, upon which one might 
gaze for an hour, were it ever visible so long, without the 
slightest visual inconvenience ; and this, we were told, with 
apparent seriousness, was the sun ; and the English sun per- 
haps it was, but I am sure it was not the sun we are accus- 
tomed to see in America; for besides being altogether of a 
different hue, it neither rose nor set at the same point of the 
compass ; and one morning, as I can most confidently testify, 
it did not rise at all till after ten o'clock, for at that hour 
the lamps were still burning in the street. "And this," we 
said one to another, "is a London fog;" but they laughed 
at our simplicity, and assured us it was " only a morning 
mist." I went out and walked in it, but it seemed much 
better adapted for swimming in, and reminded me of the 
waters of the Asphaltic sea. One might almost have cut the 
atmosphere into slices, or rolled it up into balls. It must 
have been in London that Byron wrote his " Dream of Dark- 
ness," 

"which was not all a dream." 

The mention of Byron reminds me that our lodgings were 
within a minute's walk of those of the poet in 1811, and 
still nearer the house in which Rogers lived, and wrote, and 
died. Hard by, in another direction, is the spot where the 
historian of the Roman Empire breathed his last; and but 
a little farther off, the place where the author of " The Faerie 
Queen" perished for lack of bread. And here, a few doors 
from us, is the building in which Joseph Addison produced 
many of his finest papers ; and yonder the square around 
which Johnson and Savage walked all night because, like 
a Greater, they had not where to lay their heads. And 



A WEEK IN LONDON. 41 

within hailing distance is the famous Alinack's, St. James's 
Palace, the lodgings of Pope, and the window where poor 
Grillray threw himself headlong to destiny. One would 
think that in such a locality we must have grown philoso- 
phic, sentimental, ambitious, or desperate ; yet I do not per- 
ceive that our classical environments wrought any particular 
change in our mental moods or habitudes, and we left 
" 42 St. James's Place" much as we entered, though with a 
somewhat lighter purse, and a slightly less favorable opinion 
of "furnished apartments" and their proprietors. 

We lived here very quietly in our " own hired house," 
eating our own bread and cheese, and paying plentifully for 
the privilege. The Londoners excel the Yankees both in 
charging and in cheating. You are asked three guineas a 
week for a suite of rooms, and that is to include fires, cook- 
ing, service, and every thing else except your food, which 
you are to furnish yourself; but when you come to settle 
your bill, you find fifty small items of which you had never 
dreamed; and, to avoid words, you quietly pay double the 
original stipulation, and purchase a little wisdom for future 
emergencies. 

The cab-drivers perpetually practice a similar game. You 
will rarely find an honest man among them. The law obliges 
them to have' the printed terms of conveyance on the inside 
of their vehicles, yet they seldom fail to charge a stranger 
double or treble the amount. The proper way to deal with 
them is to say, " Your fare is eighteen pence," or whatever 
the sum may be ; and if they refuse to take it, put the 
money back into your pocket, or make them drive you to a 
police office for settlement. If you ask them their price, 
«, t and pay what they demand, you are sure to be " taken in and 
done for." I speak from experience. 

The English servants are doubtless the best in the world — 
the best trained, the most polite and respectful. But they are 



42 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

poorly paid. The lady in whose house we lodged employs a 
man and his wife, and pays hoth together about one hundred 
and fifty dollars per annum; they furnishing their own tea, cof- 
fee, sugar, and the like. Some get a little more ; but wages 
in general are extremely low. Many of these people would 
gladly come to America, if they could manage to get here ; 
and several of them solicited us to take them with us on 
our return, offering to pay their fare by their subsequent 
services. All butlers, coachmen, etc., wear white cravats — 
I suppose, because they are ministers. To advertisements 
for household servants in the newspapers, one frequently 
meets with this significant addendum: "No Irish need 
apply." 

On board the Persia, I was solemnly assured, by one of. 
the sages of Albion, that the unhappy condition of the " 
English poor is constantly exaggerated by the American 
press ; that no other country on the face of the earth pro- 
vides so liberally for. the indigent and the unfortunate ; that 
overwork on the one hand, and want of employment on the 
other, are far less frequent than Brother Jonathan represents 
them ; and that beggary and starvation are entirely unneces- 
sary — the result only of improvidence, indolence, and crime. 
Perhaps it is so; but certainly I saw more indications of 
pinching want and absolute wretchedness during the week 
we spent in London, than have met my observation in the 
United States for twenty years. There are five hundred 
charitable institutions in the city and its suburbs, supported 
at an annual outlay of nearly two millions sterling; yet the 
streets are full of ragged boys, barefooted girls, mendicant 
musicians, hunger-stricken countenances, sickly-looking men 
begging bread for their wives, and half-famished women for 
their babes. Early on Christmas morning, an aged female 
in rags, and a shivering little maiden without shoes, strfuck 
up a Christmas carol beneath our window, singing for a 



A WEEK IN LONDON. 43 

brealrfast. They had scarcely ended, when a company of 
young boys, some five or sis, very thinly clad, and haggard 
and woe-begone as human beings well could be, took their 
place. During the day I met with at least fifty such parties, 
wailing their joyous numbers; and my heart sung, when I 
saw them, 

"Hail, Columbia, happy land!" 

Our first visit was to the British Pantheon, "Westminster 
Abbey, where apotheosized greatness lies in its glory. We 
walked over the ashes and among the monuments of princes 
and statesmen, poets and orators, philosophers and philan- 
thropists. In these solemn aisles and sombre chambers, 
genius and royalty repose side by side, and the tomb of the 
actress is hard by that of the queen. Here hands that 
penned imperishable thoughts are mouldered into dust, and 
tongues that entranced the .listening thousands are silenced 
till the resurrection. 

"•Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 
'Twill trickle to his rival's bier: 
O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound, 
And Fox's shall the notes rebound." 

Joseph Addison lies sepulchred in immortality where once 
he loved to walk for the " agreeable melancholy" which 
" the gloominess of the place and the solemnity of the build- 
ing" were apt to produce in his mind; and near him are Mans- 
field, Canning, Grattan, and William Wilberforce. Richard 
Brindsley Sheridan sleeps, with Samuel Johnson, David 
G-arrick, and Thomas Parr, within a few feet of the tombs 
of ten sovereigns. Among all these great names, none is 
more fragrant than that of Elizabeth Pry, who has a record 
here among those whom -the nation " delighteth to honor." 
And here are the monuments of Chaucer, Milton, Spenser, 
Shakspeare, Dryden, Drayton, Cowley, Butler, Goldsmith, 



44 AYEARINEUROPE. 

Southey, Prior, Cowper, and Campbell, "who are precious 
in the retrospect of memory, and walk among the visions of 
hope." Many a pleasant hour have I spent in companion- 
ship with some of these, even in a distant land. Often have 
they furnished me food for profitable thought, and eyes for 
the appreciation of nature ; and often has the sweet witch- 
ery of their verse stirred the deep fountains of my soul. 
The last enemy has no respect for genius and worth ; and 
to these, and all the rest, with slight modification, may be 
applied the quaint inscription on the tablet to William Lau- 
rence, erected in 1621 : 

"Short-hand he "wrote; his flowere in prime did fade, 
And hasty death short-hand of him hath made." 

But thought and melody are immortal ; and while all that 
was perishable of the poet lies in the voiceless and oblivious 
tomb, his numbers, like the harp of Orpheus, still charm the 
living world. 

"Dead he is not, but departed; 
For the author never dies." 

Hugh Miller thinks Westminster Abbey far inferior in 
beauty and grandeur to St. Paul's Cathedral; and the Gothic 
architecture in general a much lower and less exquisite pro- 
duction of the human mind than the Grecian. It may be 
deemed presumption in me to differ with the great geologist; 
but differ with him I certainly shall ; for what judge is he 
in matters ecclesiologieal, and what business has he with 
things above ground, who groped all his lifelong like a mole 
beneath the surface of our planet ? The hollow caverns of 
the earth are his province; its fossils and rocky strata; the 
14 coal measures," and the " old red sandstone." / Moreover, 
the author of " First Impressions of England" never tra- 
velled beyond the limits of his native isle — never saw the 



A WEEK IN LONDON. 45 

Cathedral of Cologne, of Rouen, of Strasbourg, nor the 
marble miracle of Milan, nor the matchless spire of St. 
Stephen's, nor Giotto's incomparable Campanile. Let a man 
look at these, and not form his estimate of Gothic architec- 
ture from Westminster Abbey, ungothicized by Sir Christo- 
pher Wren. Let him look at these, and pace their solemn 
aisles, and wander among their stately colonnades and statued 
pinnacles, and survey their massive buttresses and delicate 
tracery, 

"With storied windows richly dight, 
Casting a dim religious light;" 

and his taste must be of a different order from mine, and 
must have passed through a different process of culture, if 
he can then pronounce the gorgeous sublimity of the Gothic 
architecture inferior in impression to the severe simplicity 
of the old Grecian models. 

The new Parliament Building is a magnificent failure, an 
all too costly toy. . Most of the rooms are inconveniently 
small, and some of them are foolishly adorned. The Victo- 
ria Tower, carried a hundred and fifty feet higher, would 
have been worth looking at ; but as it is, that immense heap 
of fine material, with all its affluence of artistic decoration, 
might about as well have been thrown into the Thames. 
The Clock Tower is a graceful structure, with an ugly pyra- 
mid at the top, the mere gilding of which cost enough to 
feed all London for half a year or more. The great bell — 
" Big Ben," as it has been christened — weighs sixteen tons, 
and had a very musical tone, though not the pure harmonic, 
like that at Florence ; but lately it has been fractured, and 
will require recasting. 

We walked through the parks of London, and rode through 
its principal thoroughfares, and took a peep at its palaces 
and prisons, which externally present a very similar aspect, 



46 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

especially St. James's and Newgate. We crossed all the 
bridges of the Thames, and made the tour of its* marvellous 
Tunnel, that most ingenious and least useful of modern 
achievements; and, with the waggish "Dun Browne," we 
wondered " how it could cost so much money to dig so small 
a hole." We spent some pleasant hours at the British Mu- 
seum, where we saw every thing we expected to see, with 
many things we had never dreamed of seeing — pictures, 
statues, torsos, gods and goddesses, emperors and orators, 
monstrous pre'adamite fossils, mummies from the pyramids, 
and winged lions from Nineveh — an astonishing and instruct- 
ive collection — a many-volumed history of earth and. man. 
We visited the Tower, and for a shilling apiece were shown 
the Regalia, consisting of crowns, circlets, and diadems of 
gold ; with staves and sceptres, swords and crosses, the royal 
spurs, and many other ornaments, all of gold, glistening 
with gems, among which flamed the glorious Kohinoor ; be- 
sides the ancient kings of Britain in their iron and brazen 
mail; the "Traitor's Gate," at which state prisoners of old 
were forced to enter — through which 

" Went Sydney, Russel, Raleigh, Cranmer, More" — 

through which passed the Princess Elizabeth, exclaiming, 
"Here landeth as true a subject as ever landed at these 
stairs, and before thee, God, I speak it !" the dungeon 
in which Sir Walter Raleigh wrote his " Political Discourses," 
and began his "History of the World;" other dungeons, 
with the names and woes of those who suffered in them, and 
many an appeal to Heaven against the injustice of their im- 
prisonment, rudely engraven by their own hands upon - the 
walls ; the block on which Lady Jane Grey, and Anne Bo- 
leyn, and Catharine Howard, were-beheaded; and the iden- 
tical axe that completed the triumph of Cromwell, by 



A WEEK IN LONDON. 47 

severing the neck of Charles the First ; with other splendors 
and horrors " too numerous to mention." 

Sabbath morning we sat under the ministry o£ Dr. Gum- 
ming at Crown Court. His prayer was appropriate, but 
nothing remarkable. His Scripture lesson was followed with 
an exposition, clear, comprehensive, and very beautiful, 
occupying fifteen or twenty minutes. His sermon was just 
like one of Dr. Cumming's lectures, and no person familiar 
with his writings ever could have mistaken it for any thing 
else. There were passages in it of considerable beauty, but 
nothing bold or striking. We were wafted along by a 
gentle breeze, on a smooth and placid stream, lined with the 
vernal emerald, with here and there a gay bank of prim- 
roses, and a cluster of sweet-breathing violets-, while the soft 
air trembled with the mellow symphonies of birds, and the 
chiming of silver bells ; but there was no Niagara, no thun- 
der-cloud upon the deep, no tornado in the forest, no trum- 
pet summoning to the battle, nothing to stir and stimulate 
the soul, though there was much to interest, to gratify, and 
to soothe. The manner was suited to the matter — gentle, 
winning, faultless, except that it was rather too fine — too 
manifestly studied and artistic; the voice, very pleasing; 
the enunciation, remarkably clear and precise; the gesticu- 
lation graceful, dignified, and appropriate ; the entire elocu- 
tion, indeed, finished and elegant to the last degree. Dr. 
Cumming is a very popular preacher, and a pastor universally 
beloved. After having ministered to the same flock for 
twenty-five years, the place is still crowded every Sabbath to 
its utmost capacity. Presiding over one of the largest 
churches in England, he manages to publish two or three 
duodecimo volumes a year. After service, I had an inter- 
view with him in the vestry, and found him very cordial and 
agreeable. He said he was quite partial to American books, 
fuund in them a certain freshness and vigor of thought with 



48 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

■which he was always delighted, and should hope some day 
to make the personal acquaintance of some of our writers on 
their own &ee soil, were it not for his " dread of that broad 
Atlantic." 

In the evening we went to hear Mr. Spurgeon. By pre- 
vious arrangement with the sexton, we were at the Great 
New Park Street Chapel an hour before the time of service ; 
and though the weather was extremely disagreeable, we 
found a crowd of people, women as well as men, waiting for 
admittance, and two or three policemen on duty. When the 
side gate was unlocked for our party, there was a rush to 
effect an entrance, and the policemen were obliged to inter- 
fere. We were shown to a convenient seat, not far from the 
pulpit. Soon the pewholders came thronging in, and every 
seat was occupied. Then the doors were thrown open, and 
galleries and aisles were instantly filled, and multitudes still 
stood without in the drizzling rain, to catch if possible a 
sentence or a word. At the appointed moment, a short, fat, 
fresh, round-faced, good-natured-looking youth, ascended the 
pulpit — a huge, unhandsome box, elevated about ten feet 
above the audience — knelt a moment in silent prayer, then 
rose and read a psalm, with great emphasis, in a full, clear, 
powerful voice, more remarkable for volume than for either 
compass or melody. The precentor, standing behind a little 
desk at the foot of the pulpit, announced the tune, and led 
forth the music ; when the whole congregation fell to, and 
sung "as the voice of many waters." The reverend gen- 
tleman then read a short lesson from the New Testament, 
explaining every verse as he proceeded ; and the very first 
sentence of the exposition was a bold and unqualified enun- 
ciation of the Genevan dogma of unconditional election, 
founded upon the Evangelical statement, that " Jesus took 
three of his disciples up into a mountain, and was trans- 
figured before them." Next came the prayer, which com- 



A WEEK IN LONDON. 49 

nienced with thanksgiving to G-od for his " sovereign elect- 
ing love before the foundation of the world/' and closed 
with an earnest petition for " the day when free grace shall 
set its foot upon the neck of free will." In rising to begin 
his discourse, the speaker said he had experienced a week of 
great personal anxiety, and since the morning service had 
been quite unwell; and though he had done his best by way 
of preparation, he felt that it would be impossible for him to 
preach with his usual freedom and force. His text was 
chosen from the account of the Transfiguration : "And they 
feared as they entered into the cloud;" on which basis he 
reared a highly artistic and somewhat fanciful superstructure 
of three stories — " Clouds, Fears, and Communion." There 
were passages in the sermon of uncommon beauty and power, 
though I was afterward told that it fell far short of his ordi- 
nary energy and eloquence. One who was present remarked 
that the preacher himself " seemed to be in a cloud ;" and 
so perhaps he was ; but ever and anon the lightning of his 
fancy played through its folds, and fringed its skirts with 
fire; till at last, like the cloud that overhung the camp of 
Israel, it shot up into a pyramid of flame, and gave out ter- 
rific thunder. Nothing could exceed the emphasis with 
which he denounced the lukewarmness of the Church, and 
the fervor with which he laid siege to the hearts of sinners. 
The conclusion was exceedingly picturesque and dramatic ; 
and the cold thrills ran over me, as he drew the procrasti- 
nator to the verge of life, trembling and clinging to his fail- 
ing hopes, cried — " Hands off!" then pointed where he fell ! 
Mr. Spurgeon's style is very unequal, passages, otherwise 
of exquisite beauty, being often disfigured by expressions 
common even to coarseness, as if the stained windows of 
Westminster Abbey had been patched with newspapers, or 
the gorgeous Victoria Tower finished out with a clumsy 
superstructure of unhewn stone. His great excellences are 
3 



50 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Ms simplicity and directness, his fearless and earnest man- 
ner, fidelity of application and fervor of appeal, an exceed- 
ingly happy faculty of illustration, with a powerful and 
well-managed voice, and an action at once easy, natural, and 
impressive. Into the province of logic, I judge, he seldom, 
if ever, ventures; and herein he shows his wisdom; for, 
evidently, whatever he was made for, he was not made for a 
reasoner. With this exception, if, indeed, it he not deemed 
a capital defect, he has all the elements of superior oratory ; 
and with his extraordinary dramatic power, I do not wonder 
that the common people follow him hy thousands. No pul- 
pit man, except Whitefield and Irving, ever attracted such 
crowds in London. His chapel heing found too small for his 
audience, he has engaged the immense Music Hall at the 
Surrey Gardens, where he holds forth on Sabbath mornings 
to eight or ten thousand hearers. They are admitted on 
tickets, at a shilling apiece ; yet multitudes come who can- 
not even obtain a standing-place within the walls. The 
money thus collected, after paying current expenses, is to be 
applied to the building of a large tabernacle for the congre- 
gation. A short time before our visit the young man was 
married, when thousands flocked to witness the ceremony; 
and it is said there never was so large a concourse on any 
similar occasion in the metropolis. He is a man of great 
industry, energy, and zeal ; and his pliysique seems fully 
equal to the immense demands made upon it by the unrest- 
ing and impetuous soul. Probably he receives more calls 
and pays more visits than any other minister in London ; of 
notes of inquiry, and letters soliciting religious counsel, 
which he generally contrives to answer, there is no end ; his 
preaching is incessant, and there is service of some sort 
every evening in his chapel, and often a prayer-meeting at 
sunrise. His pulpit indiscretions are those of a frank, sim- 
ple, warm-hearted boy ; for as yet he can scarcely be called 



A WEEK IN LONDON. 51 

a man ; his eccentricities are the eccentricities of genius ; 
and his egotism the egotism of zeal. His rough corners 
will wear off by-and-by ; for he can scarcely float in such a 
current without striking here and there against the shore, 
and grinding now and then among the rocks ; and if popu- 
lar applause does not spoil him, of which I trust there is 
little danger, he is likely to prove a very useful man. I had 
a pleasant interview with him in the vestry after service, 
and was delighted to find in his manner the cordiality of the 
Christian, blended with the simplicity of the child; and 
left him with the settled conviction, that the " peremptori- 
ness," "pertinacity," and "self-conceit/ 7 so often com- 
plained of in his character, are but the natural expression of 
a brave, honest, ingenuous, and unsuspecting soul. 



52 A YEAR IN EUROPE, 



CHAPTER IV. 

BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 

DINNER AT DOVER CROSSING THE CHANNEL — CALAIS — COLOGNE : — 

THE CATHEDRAL SHRINE OF THE THREE KINGS CHURCH OF 

SAINT URSULA DOM GLOCKE OTHER CHURCHES HISTORICAL 

RAILWAY CASUALTY SERIOUS MISTAKE DRESDEN ROMANISM AND 

ROYALTY — FRAUENKIRCHE — ENGLISH WORSHIP. 



The River Rhine, it is well known, 
Doth wash the city of Cologne ; 
But tell me, nymphs, what power divine 
Shall henceforth wash the River Rhine f 

Coleridge. 



At one o'clock P. M., on Monday, the twenty-ninth, we 
took leave of the metropolis, and three hours of pleasant 
railway travel brought us to Dover. Here we waited four 
hours for a steamer not worth two hours of any man's time ; 
and sat down to a very tolerable dinner, for which we paid a 
most intolerable price. It was amusing to see with what 
amazement a tall Frenchman, a real Ajax in boots, regarded 
his bill. "Monsieur," said he, "vat you pay for your 
deenare ?" Upon receiving my answer he exclaimed : " Be 
gare, monsieur, dis is de dearest place in de world ! I pay 
eight sheeling ! Monsieur, you ever hear such ting ? I 
,have leetle soup, von leetle fish, von leetle piece chicken. 



BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 53 

two cup coffee, no more, and I pay eight sheeling ! Eight 
sheeling for von such deenare ! Be gare, I nevare see such 
place — nevare — nevare !" 

At eight in the evening we took leave of "dear old Eng- 
land." Within half an hour two of the triad were in a 
most pitiable condition. Such rolling and plunging, in 
such a cramped -up little cabin, after having come so 
recently from the spacious saloons and ample state-rooms of 
the Persia, was surely enough to make any one sea-sick who 
is at all addicted to that vice. To the scribe, suffering only 
from sympathy, and not much from that, the passage was 
rather pleasant. True, the weather was cold and cloudy, 
with an occasional sprinkling of snow during the first part 
of the voyage ; but Monsieur of the " deenare" said it was 
"von very fine night," and most of the passengers seemed 
to concur in the opinion. 

The distance from Dover to Calais is only twenty-one 
miles, and the lights seen at once on both sides, with here 
and there a lamp at the mast of a vessel, and the stars that 
now and then peered through the rifted clouds, made the 
darkness beautiful, and gave enchantment to the waters. I 
sat alone upon the deck, wrapped in my shawl, surveying the 
scene, communing with my own soul, and lulled by the 
music of wind and wave, till lost in a delicious reveryj 
when a form stalked by me through the gloom, indistinct as 
the ghost of Eliphaz the Temanite, and full twice as tall, 
and I heard a voice saying, "Eight sheeling! eight sheel- 
ing for such leetle deenare ! Be gare, I nevare see such 
hotel before !" 

Two hours landed us at Calais. Judging from the 
Custom-house and the railway-station — for the night permit- 
ted us to see nothing more of the city — this must be one of 
the most miserable places in Christendom. The arrange- 
ments — say rather the disarrangements — for examining pass- 



54 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

ports and baggage are unworthy a civilized people — a mere 
form, void of all utility, necessary only for the sake of the 
revenue, but often infinitely troublesome to the traveller. 
If the manner in which these officers dealt with us is a 
specimen, they must very seldom detect a smuggler, assassin, 
or rogue of any other sort. All they did was to open a 
lady's satchel, unroll her night-gown, scrutinize its border, 
and put a few unintelligible scratches upon our passports, 
for which we waited two hours, and had five different fees to 
pay. After this we were detained two hours more — too 
short a time to sleep, but too long to keep awake. Here 
we parted with our friend Ajax, who took the chemin de fer 
for Paris ; and as the train started slowly from the station, 
the words once more fell upon my ear : " Eight sheeling ! 
eight sheeling for von such leetle deenare I" 

Soon after two we were rushing through the night to meet 
the morning. We had to rush a long time, however; for at 
this season of the year it is not daylight here until about 
seven o'clock. The dawn revealed a rich level country, culti- 
vated everywhere like a garden, intersected by canals and 
hedges, with fine macadamized roads, and long avenues of 
elms and poplars, ornamented with church-towers and wind- 
mills, elegant chateaux and rural cottages-: — the land of our 
dreams for years, rising out of darkness around us, as Para- 
dise rises to the pilgrim emerging from " the valley of the 
shadow of death/' 

Of the towns we passed during the day, the railway car- 
riage afforded us but meagre and momentary glimpses. 
Late in the afternoon we passed through an arched gateway 
in the wall of the ancient city of Cologne, and found plea- 
sant rooms in the Hotel de Holland, overlooking the far- 
famed Rhine. After breakfast the next morning, having 
procured a carriage, and the indispensable commissionaire, 
we set forth on a tour of exploration. Of course the first 



BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 55 

object of interest was the cathedral. Begun in the thir- 
teenth century, it is yet unfinished, and likely to he for 
some time to come. There is a legend which satisfactorily 
accounts for the tardy progress of the work. The architect 
was drawing a plan for the building, when a certain gentle- 
man in black looked over his shoulder, and said : " Here is 
a much better plan than that, and you shall have it cheap.'" 
It was a beautiful plan, and to the architect it seemed per- 
fect. " What is your price ?" said he. " Your own soul 
when the cathedral is finished/' was the reply. Of course 
the pious architect inwardly shrunk with horror from such a 
proposition ; yet was he so well pleased with the plan that 
he continued looking at it and talking about it, endeavoring 
to fix its several parts permanently in his mind. Satan, see- 
ing himself outwitted, seized the paper, and tore it to pieces, 
exclaiming : " You may build according to my plan, but 
you shall never finish your cathedral \" Yet, in its imper- 
fect state — a mere fragment — it is truly a glorious sight to 
one who has an eye for what is grand or beautiful in archi- 
tecture. The present King of Prussia has contributed 
largely to the' work, and there is an association, with 
branches in all parts of Europe, collecting money for its 
completion, which will yet require five millions of dollars. 
It is to have- two towers; five hundred feet bigh, correspond- 
ing to the length of the edifice. The present altitude of 
the higher one is only two hundred feet, and nothing has 
been added, I believe, to its altitude for more than two hun- 
dred years. The double range of stupendous flying but- 
tresses, and the intervening piers, bristling with a forest of 
pinnacles, strike the beholder with amazement and awe; 
while within the building the massive columns, lofty arches, 
elaborate carvings, and magnificent parti-colored windows, 
constitute, if possible, a still more impressive spectacle. 
A guide, for a few groschen, conducted us through the 



5G A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

chapels, filled with shrines, statues, paintings, relics of 
saints, and many other curious things. One of the most 
remarkable is the shrine of " The Three Kings" — that is, the 
three sages who came to Bethlehem to see the infant Saviour. 
Their bones are said to have been brought hither from 
Milan by the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, in the twelfth 
century, when he stormed and sacked that city; and to 
have been given by him to the Archbishop of Cologne, who 
had accompanied him in his warlike expedition, and who 
took good care that the precious treasure should be properly 
preserved and honored. And here are now the three skulls, 
crowned with jewelled diadems, doubtless quite as genuine 
as the bone of St. Matthew shown us in the sacristy ; ' and 
here are the names of the royal saints to whom they seve- 
rally belonged — G-aspar, Melchior, and Balthazar — written 
in rubies, all contained in a case of curious woidnnanship, 
bedight with gems, cameos, and costly enamels, and orna- 
mented with statuettes of the prophets and apostles. At 
the time of the French Revolution, the shrine, with its pre- 
cious contents, was transferred, for safe keeping, to Arns- 
berg, in Westphalia, and many of its jewels were sold to 
support those who accompanied it; yet many beautiful 
stones remain, and its value is still estimated at something 
more than a million sterling. Albert Smith, of London, 
tells a fine story of a Yankee who tried to buy it ; and when 
the custode told him it was not for sale, threatened to make 
a " shrine of the three kings" for himself, and show it for 
sixpence a head, and blow their "old consarn sky high." 
Between the shrine and the altar lies buried the heart of 
Marie di Medicis ; and I was afterward shown, in another 
part of the city, the room in which it throbbed its last, 
close by that in which Rubeus's began to beat. 

After visiting several other churches — for Cologne is a 
city of churches — of curious antique architecture, and full 



BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 57 

of holy relics, we were conducted to that of Saint Ursula, 
begun in the twelfth century, and finished in the fifteenth. 
The legend of this saint is very interesting. She was the 
daughter of a king of Brittany. With eleven thousand vir- 
gins, she made a pilgrimage to Rome. On their return 
through Grermany, they were all murdered here by the 
Huns, who were then invading Cologne. In honor of these 
virgin martyrs the church was erected; and here are their 
bones, dug up from the earth after they had slept a century 
or two, and built into the walls, sixteen feet thick, so that 
the solid masonry is actually a mass of human skeletons; 
and who will be wicked enough to doubt their identity? 
The saint herself is said to repose in a sarcophagus behind 
the altar, on which is her reclining effigy, in beautiful white 
marble. We saw also her left arm, her right hand, and one 
of her forefingers ; not less genuine, I suppose, than " one 
of the waterpots of stone in which our Lord turned the 
water into wine," which was exhibited along with them. 
The skulls of some hundreds of her companions, if not the 
whole of them, a ghastly array, enclosed in silver cases with 
crystal covers, decorate the walls of the choir. . Our commis- 
sionaire said to me, on leaving the church, "Vat you tink 
of so much relic V " Very little," I answered. " I tink 
more little as you do," he added. "Leven tousan virgin ! 
You tink I believe dat ? It is too much I" " But the 
priests believe it," said I ; "do they not ?" " De priest !" 
exclaimed he ; " 0, no, not von priest believe it." " Why 
then," I inquired, " do they show these things to the peo- 
ple, and tell us such fine stories about them ?" " It is von 
big lie," he answered, with energy; " von big lie to get de 
money!" "You seem to have very little respect," said I, 
" either for the priests or for the relics ; but do you not 
worship the Blessed Virgin?" "No," he answered, still 
more emphatically than before ; " I worship only God ! I 
3* 



bb A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

worship no saint but Christ !" Yet I observed afterward, 
in other churches, that he crossed himself occasionally, 
bowed reverently at the elevation of the host, and sprinkled 
himself with holy water as he entered arid retired. 

As it was the day of a solemn festival, the " Dom Glocke," 
or great bell of the cathedral, was to ring in the evening ; 
so I called our commissionaire, and leaving the ladies 
behind, went out to hear it. This hollow mass of metal is 
twelve feet in diameter, and requires twenty men to swing it; 
yet its tone, powerful beyond conception, is perfectly melo- 
dious. The voice of " Big Ben" was but the tinkling of a 
sheep-bell in the comparison. The majestic sound seemed 
to fill the universal atmosphere, and I thought the music 
worth coming over the Atlantic to hear. I have read of an 
English traveller who heard the bells of his native village in- 
the desert of Sahara; and if they were all like this, the be- 
lief of the statement requires no great credulity. 

From the Cathedral we went to nine other churches in 
succession, most of which were brilliantly illuminated, and 
many of them thronged with worshippers. The Church of 
the Jesuits, in which we heard some extremely fine music, 
is profusely decorated with sculpture and paintings; con- 
tains the crozier of Francis Xavier, and the rosary of Igna- 
tius Loyola; and its bells, a very fine set, presented by 
Tilly, were cast from the cannon which he captured at 
Magdeburg. In the Church of the Apostles a priest was 
preaching to an immense audience — not less, I think, than 
three or four thousand, some of whom stood listening with 
profound attention, while others were kneeling in prayer be- 
fore the different shrines and images, and others wandering 
about, and talking aloud, while no one attempted to still 
them. We tried very hard to enter the Protestant church, 
but the throng about the door was so dense that we found it 
quite impossible, and were obliged to content ourselves with 



BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 59 

standing outside, and listening to the service, which seemed 
very simple, and much after the manner of our German 
brethren in Charleston. 

Cologne is a free city, the largest and wealthiest on the 
Rhine. With its two suburbs across the river, it has a popu- 
lation of a hundred thousand, ten thousand of whom are 
Protestants, and sis thousand and five hundred soldiers. It 
originated in a Roman camp, pitched here by Marcus 
Agrippa. In this camp was born Agrippina, the mother of 
Nero. She afterward sent to the place of her birth a Roman 
colony; which was called, after her, Colonia Agrippina ; the 
former part of which suggests the derivation of the present 
name of the city. The inhabitants are said to be still very 
proud of their Roman origin; and till within the last hundred 
years they kept up many of the ancient Roman customs. 
For more than three centuries, including the thirteenth 
and fourteenth, Cologne was the most flourishing city of 
Northern Europe, and was frequently called " the Northern 
Rome." It then had two hundred magnificent churches, and 
was able to send forth thirty thousand men to battle. Its sub- 
sequent decay is attributed to many agencies, the chief of 
which was the unlimited sway of ignorant and bigoted eccle- 
siastics. They expelled and persecuted its most industrious 
and useful citizens ; first the Jews, then the weavers, after- 
ward the Protestants ; and by these, and kindred measures, 
reduced a rich and thriving city to comparative poverty and 
desolation. Since the French Revolution, a great change 
has taken place : the people have thrown off their lethargy, 
trade has revived, population has increased, dilapidated 
buildings have been repaired, valuable works of art have 
been sought out and restored, the long-suspended work of 
the magnificent cathedral has been commenced anew, and all 
things seem to be in an improving condition. The streets 
are very narrow, and without sidewalks, and Cologne has 



GO AYEARINEUHOPE. 

long been famous as a filthy city. There is no bridge across 
the Rhine, bnt a bridge of boats ; which, however, is soon 
to be superseded by a solid stone structure already begun. 
The renowned Eau de Cologne — originally manufactured by 
Jean Marie Farina, now by some twenty-four others, most 
of whom claim the name of the patentee and the right of 
the patent — perfumes the whole civilized world. The ladies 
bought a box of six bottles, and when our sweet sojourn here 
was ended, we resumed our journey toward the Eternal City, 
all redolent of " the Northern Rome." 

It was not yet daylight on New Year's morning, when we 
crossed the Rhine, and took the train for Dresden. Railway 
accidents are said to be infrequent in Europe ; but was ■ not 
our progress arrested that day by a capsized locomotive, and 
a superincumbent pile of shattered cars ? Of course, nobody 
was to blame, and I heard it suggested that the engine was 
probably on a New Year's frolic, and the train, like " poor 
Tray," was involved in the consequences, "for no other rea- 
son than having been found in bad company." "Kommen sic 
hieraus !" shouted the conductor, as he threw open the door of 
our vehicle ; and we, promptly obeying the order, and following 
through mud and snow, walked past the hideous ruin and took 
another train. Stout peasants, in short blue frocks and huge 
wooden shoes, bore our baggage after us upon their shoulders, 
and we were soon pursuing our journey. The detention, how- 
ever, made us too late for the connection at Leipsic, and we 
were obliged to remain there all night. There stopped with 
us at the same hotel an agreeable Polish gentleman, whose 
acquaintance we had made in the car. The next morning, 
when we renewed our journey, one of the waiters, by mis- 
take, put into our carriage a valuable fur overcoat, which I 
supposed to be the property of the Polander, and he thought 
to be mine. After we had been travelling an hour or two, 
he asked me, as I thought, what such an article would be 



BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 61 

worth, in America; and I answered, "JPetct-etre cent Uvrcs." 
I had mistaken his question, however, as it afterward 
appeared; for instead of inquiring what it would briDg, he 
had inquired what I had paid for it. When we drew near 
Dresden, the conductor came into our coupe, and began 
talking very seriously with our friend, evidently about the 
coat. The colloquy was carried on partly in French and 
partly in German, both of which the Polander appeared to 
speak but indifferently. Soon there was a transition from 
the coat to me, and I heard our new acquaintance say : u Er 
ist Pastor, er ist Doctor." Now the conductor turned to me, 
and asked for my passport, and handed me a bit of paper, 
on which he desired me to write my name, residence, and 
profession. He scrutinized the passport, then my form and 
features, and next what I had written at his request, in a 
most mysterious manner ; and I never suspected the cause, 
till the Polander turned to me and asked : "Ist das Ihr 
Roch f To which I replied : "JVein, ist es nicht der llirige T' 
and in a moment the mystery was explained. The owner of 
the article at Leipsic had missed his coat; and upon inquiry, 
learned that it had gone with our party ; and innocently sus- 
pecting that it was stolen, telegraphed the conductor to that 
effect, who, as a faithful officer, was now making inquisition 
for the thief. A little explanation satisfied him, and we 
laughed heartily over the error, and quoted, as apropos to 
the occasion, a couplet from the old song: 

"Never go to France, unless you know the lingo; 
For if you do, like me, you'll repent of it, by jingo !" 

And our Polish neighbor, who for a while took it very 
seriously to heart that he should have been suspected of lar- 
ceny, at length began to see the ludicrous character of the 
affair, and joined in our mirth right merrily. 

Entering Dresden, we crossed the Elbe on a magnificent 



62 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

stone bridge of twelve arches ; and in passing from the rail- 
way station to the Victoria Hotel, recrossed it upon another, 
connecting the old town and the new, and commanding a fine 
view of a large portion of the city and its environs. The 
latter is called the Old Bridge, and is said to have been built 
with money raised by the sale of indulgences for eating but- 
ter and eggs during Lent. The Elbe here is about as broad 
as the Savannah at Augusta, or the Cumberland at Nash- 
ville. The situation of Dresden, in a wide valley, with gen- 
tly sloping hills on both sides, and the river winding through 
it like a thread of silver, is very beautiful. It has a popu- 
lation of ninety thousand, only five thousand of whom are 
Papists. For its works of art, it has been called "the Ger- 
man Florence;" as, for its Roman antiquities and customs, 
Cologne has been called " the Northern Rome." Being a 
cheap place to live, and affording excellent facilities for edu- 
cation, especially in music, it has been much frequented for 
this purpose, within the last twenty or thirty years, by 
English and American families. 

Spending a Sabbath here, we repaired in the morning to 
the Roman Catholic church, where the king worships, and 
all the royal family. The King of Saxony, at the time of 
the Reformation, was the special friend of Luther, and his 
most powerful supporter; but Augustus the Second after- 
ward bartered his religion for the crown of Poland, and his 
successors still follow the Italian apostasy. We saw royalty 
and its train, sitting in boxes, like those of a theatre, just 
over the altar — about a dozen persons in all; and but for 
their situation, some forty or fifty feet above us, they looked 
very much like other people, and neither of the most beau- 
tiful class, nor of the most intellectual. The king himself 
seemed sleepy and indifferent ; while the- queen, and one or 
two others of the ladies, appeared to be very devout. They 
enter the church and retire by a covered bridge thrown over 



BEGINNING THE CONTINENT. 63 

the street, connecting the church and the palace, without 
descending from their lofty opera-boxes to mingle with the 
throng, or pollute their royal sole-leather. The music here 
excelled every thing of the kind I had ever heard, and is 
said to be the finest in Europe. It is under the superintend- 
ence of the director of the opera, who on Sunday morning 
transfers his band from the orchestra to the organ-loft, and 
back again on Sunday evening ; so that you may hear the 
same musicians, and, for aught I know, the same pieces, on 
the same day, both in the church and in the play-house — a 
very advantageous arrangement, certainly, for those who 
wish to compare the two institutions ! As an artistic per- 
formance, at another time, I could have enjoyed this music 
highly; but as a part of Divine worship on the Lord's day, 
it was far from being satisfactory to my feelings. Yet it was 
the best part of the service ; and quite as acceptable to Grod, 
I have no doubt, as any thing done at the altar. The edifice 
is very large, built in the Italian style, and rather elaborately 
decorated. The pulpit is appropriately built upon a pyramid 
of saints and angels, a true representation of the basis of the 
Papal Church. A man was preaching in it when we entered, 
but the sermon was not very edifying to one who knew so 
little G-erman. 

Eeturning to our hotel, we stopped a few moments at the 
Frauenkircke, where a man was preaching to about fifty per- 
sons, though the church would contain several thousand. 
The singing after the sermon was done by a choir of boys, 
accompanied by the organ, in a gallery not less than sixty 
feet high. Their voices were very sweet, and the music was 
simple and delightful. The church is circular in form, 
built entirely of stone, and surmounted by a majestic dome, 
of such solid construction, that the balls and shells hurled 
against it by Frederick the Great rebounded without making 
any impression. Within, it is arranged exactly like a thea- 



64 A YEAR IN UUEOPE; 

tre ; with, parquette, boxes, and galleries, of which. I counted 
seven tiers, rising one above another to the very cupola. 

At three in the afternoon we went to the English Church 
— a small, plain, antique-looking structure — where we had 
the "Evening Service" in our own tongue, without either 
singing or sermon. In regard to the latter, I dare say, we 
did not lose much, for the Church-of-England preaching 
which we heard on the Continent was generally of a very 
indifferent character; and here, judging from the personal 
appearance of the minister, and the soulless manner in which, 
he read the prayers, to say nothing of what others told us 
of his dulness in the pulpit, it could not have been much 
better. 



EN ROUTE FOR VENICE. 65 



CHAPTEE V. 

EN ROUTE EOR VENICE. 

6AX0N SWITZERLAND — SPEAKING GERMAN — SMOKING AND SMOKERS — ■ 

VIENNA BADEN THE SEMMERING VALLEY OF THE HUE GRATZ — ■ 

CAVE OF ADELSBERG THE DREARY KARST TRIESTE ACROSS THE 

ADB.IATIC VENETIAN FOG. 



The hills — the everlasting hills — 

How peerlessly they rise, 
Like earth's gigantic sentinels 

Discoursing through the skies! 

Bryant. 

On Monday, the fifth of January, leaving Sallie in Dres- 
den, we resumed our journey. The railway for some dis- 
tance runs along a delightful valley on the south bank of the 
Elbe; on the opposite side of which, the hills, rising in 
terraced slopes, covered with vineyards, and ornamented with 
villas, present an attractive view, even in the depth of win- 
ter. We passed the ancient castle of Sclwnnenstien, now a 
lunatic asylum, standing on an elevated rock at our right; 
and a little farther on, the not very imposing summer 
residence of the Court of Saxony. We now entered the 
romantic region called the Saxon Switzerland. It consists 
chiefly of huge columnar hills, with level tops, separated 
from one another in some places by dark and frightful 
chasms, and in others by broad and pleasant valleys. Here 



66 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and there slender shafts, like obelisks, shoot up to a giddy 
height among the clouds. One of these is crowned with the 
remains of a castle, formerly the abode of robber knights, 
and reached by ladders and drawbridges, which were easily 
removed in time of danger, rendering their lofty eyrie quite 
inaccessible to their pursuers. The intervening valleys and 
gorges appear to have been formed by the action of water, 
wearing away the softer portions of the rock, and leaving 
the more solid masses standing in peerless majesty. We 
frequently saw large trees gi'owing out of the crags and 
crevices half-way up the precipice, where there seemed not ' 
a handful of earth to nourish thenf. The highest of these 
mountains — the Lilianstien and the Konigstein — stand 
frowning at each other across the Elbe, which flows a thou- 
sand feet beneath. The latter is crowned with a fortress, 
which has never yet been taken, which even Napoleon 
assailed in vain, and which, from its isolated position, is 
justly deemed impregnable. Here the Saxon sovereigns 
have again and again taken refuge from their stronger foes, 
and hither the royal treasures are always conveyed in time 
of war. 

At the Bohemian frontier we experienced some detention, 
and had no little annoyance from government officers in the 
vise of passports and examination of baggage. In the midst 
of our tribulation, a young soldier, to whom I thought I was 
talking intelligible German, turned away exclaiming, "IcJi 
can niclit Fransosich sprechen" — I cannot speak French. 

What a paradise is this for smokers ! The Germans actu- 
ally smoke at the dinner-table, not even waiting till the ladies 
have retired. In Dresden I saw lamps burning all day in 
little niches along the streets, for the convenience of pedes- 
trians in lighting their cigars. Each apartment in the rail- 
way cars is provided with a match-box fastened up at one 
side for the same purpose. In our country there is generally 



EN ROUTE FOR VENICE. 67 

a "smoking-car/' to which gentlemen may retire for that 
luxurious indulgence : in Germany it is a rare case that a 
passenger can find a car in which it is prohibited ; and when 
he is so fortunate, it is commonly a car of second-rate accom- 
modations. We aimed, whenever practicable, to secure to 
ourselves the sole occupancy of a coupe", in order to avoid 
this intolerable annoyance; but when the passengers were 
numerous, this was not always to be done, and we must learn 
to endure. Now it was, however, that endurance proved 
impossible — seats all full, doors and windows closed, and 
every one except ourselves smoking like Vesuvius ! Very 
mildly and respectfully we began to remonstrate, and this 
was the prompt reply : "Gehen sie in ein altere coupe l" — GrO 
you to another apartment. 

Passing through Prague and Briin in the night, with a 
pause of only thirty minutes at each, we crossed the Danube 
at eight the next morning, and breakfasted at the hotel 
Erzerzog Karl in Vienna. 

The Capital of Austria is truly a magnificent place, and 
well deserves its soubriquet — " City of Palaces j" though it 
is said to be, Paris itself not excepted, " the most dissolute 
capital in Europe." The city proper is small and compact, 
but its architecture is stately and beautiful. It is sur- 
rounded by a thick wall and a deep fosse, outside of which 
is a broad esplanade called the Glacis, full of trees and 
shrubbery, and traversed in every direction by fine foot- 
paths and carriage-roads ; and beyond this open space are the 
suburbs, occupying five times the area of the city, with ele- 
gant mansions facing the glacis, and wide streets converg- 
ing toward the centre, entering the walls through dark and 
heavy archways, and meeting at the Cathedral of St. Stephen 
in the very heart of the metropolis. Vienna, therefore, is a 
city within a city; and it is difficult to conceive of any 
thing more beautiful than this arrangement. The panorama 



68 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

from the tower of St. Stephen's resembles a wheel, the city 
being the hub, the suburbs the rim, the glacis the space 
between,' and the great streets passing through it answering 
very well to the spokes. Indeed, it looks as if it needed 
but an axle on which to revolve, and some Archimedes to 
put it in motion, and it would go for ever ; and I believe, if 
some Samson should come along, and carry it to the top of 
the Alps, and set it " right side up with care," it might roll 
down into Italy ! 

"We rode out to Sclwiibrun, the summer residence of the 
Emperor, a perfect paradise in the season of sunshine and 
flowers; and walked through its spacious halls, and saw 
some very interesting works of art; with the character' of 
which, aesthetic reader, the scribe's " better half," in this 
special department, shall in due time acquaint thee. On 
our return, we visited several churches, and heard delightful 
music, and gazed upon fine painting and statuary. Canova's 
funeral group, in the Church of the Augustines — the white 
marble forms against the dark opening of the tomb which 
they are entering, every line so sad and drooping, and the en- 
semble so modest and so holy — the bowed matron with the urn, 
the tottering old man, the sorrowful maiden, the bitterly 
weeping child, and the lion crouching at the portal — pro- 
duced upon the writer a very profound impression; while 
his other half gazed, and glowed, and rhapsodized, and 
rubbed her little hands, in a manner quite worthy of the 
occasion, and somewhat edifying to behold ; but when, upon 
turning to Murray, we learned that it was only a marble alle- 
gory, we both felt something as feels a sentimental young 
lady when, amidst her tears over some love-sick novel, she 
suddenly recollects that the story is a fiction, and the reader 
a fool. 

The Cathedral, though unfinished, is a glorious structure, 
combining all that is grand and beautiful in Gothic architec- 



EN ROUTE FOB, VENICE. 69 

ture. Its carved stone pulpit is a wonderful piece of work- 
manship. Only one of its two towers is completed, and that 
is the most marvellously symmetrical my eyes ever beheld. 
Rising to the height of four hundred feet, it commands a 
fine view of the city and circumjacent country. To the 
south is seen a broad range of lofty hills, a spur of the Alps, 
stretching away to the southeast, and terminating in the 
Schneeberg, which lifts its shining crest above the clouds. 
This region is called the Weinerwald, or Forest of Vienna ; 
being covered with trees, among which the black fir — a noble 
species — towers in princely majesty over all its fellows. 
These hills are intersected by numerous fertile valleys, beau- 
tified with winding streams, and here and there overhung by 
frowning precipices, blending in the same view every variety 
of the picturesque and the sublime. Beyond them lies a 
vast wall of lapis-lazuli and amethyst, with towers of pearl 
and pinnacles of crystal — the Styrian Alps — toward which 
we now proceed on our pleasant pilgrimage. 

Our first point is Baden — an hour's railway-travel from 
Vienna. It is a small town, surrounded by vineyards, and 
dependent almost entirely upon the fame of its mineral 
waters for a subsistence. These waters are deemed very 
efficacious in cases of gout, rheumatism, and various cutane- 
ous diseases.- On this account, the place was formerly a very 
popular resort ; but of late years it has been comparatively 
but little frequented, partly because of the superior quality 
of several other spas, and partly because of a dislike which 
royalty has taken to the town, in consequence of a madman's 
attempt to assassinate the late emperor there. 

Forty-seven miles from Vienna we reach Grloggnitz, at the 
foot of the Semmering. Here the railway is carried over a 
mountain three thousand three hundred feet high. It is 
esteemed — I should think justly — the most wonderful work 
of the kind in the world. The distance, from the com- 



70 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

rnencenicnt of the ascent to the level beyond the mountain, 
is about twenty-five miles; and in that distance there are 
twelve tunnels, and eleven vaulted cuttings, with a great 
number of bridges and viaducts. The great tunnel, at the 
summit, is one thousand five hundred and sixty-one yards 
long; and the whole amount of tunnelling exceeds four 
thousand yards. It was interesting, and not a little exciting, 
to see a long train of cars winding, like a great serpent, 
along the dizzy precipice, toward every point of the com- 
pass ; and ever and anon to behold below us, on the other 
side of a chasm a thousand feet deep, yet so near that one 
might almost throw a stone across, the path by which we 
had ascended. 

Beyond the Semmering, the railroad descends a narrow 
valley, traversed by the torrent of the Mur, and shut in by 
lofty and precipitous mountains. Some of the cliffs, which 
overhung our path at the height of a thousand or fifteen 
hundred feet, were terrible to behold; and here and there 
where the valley opened to a wider prospect, peak upon peak, 
and range upon range, towering away into the regions of 
eternal winter, were glorious beyond description. We saw 
many ruined castles — the relics of feudal days — in situations 
which seemed inaccessible to any but the eagle ; yet these, 
all were once the homes of heroic men and gentle women. 
As we passed the gates of G-ratz — the capital of Styria — we 
met a procession of priests, carrying crosses ; led by a bishop, 
bearing an immense lighted candle in tbe open day. Gratz 
is about as large as Charleston, beautifully situated on the 
Mur, where the valley spreads out to a width of ten or 
fifteen miles. It is the seat of a university of some cele- 
brity. A little beyond this, we were shown the ruined castle 
of Obcr-Wildon, immortalized by the residence and astro- 
nomical observations of Tycho Brahe. Then we rushed 
again into a narrow passage between the mountains; and 



EN ROUTE FOR VENICE. 71 

when we emerged on the other side, beheld the Oistrize 
Spitze, about eight thousand feet Jtrigh, crowned with per- 
petual snow. 

Not far from Laibach, where the railroad terminates, is 
the celebrated cave of Adelsberg, said to be the most magni- 
ficent in Europe, and supposed to be the most extensive. 
It has already been explored four or five miles ; but this is 
probably not the end, and new avenues are constantly being- 
discovered. We were earnestly .advised to visit it; but we 
had not time to spare; and after having been in the Mam- 
moth Cave of Kentucky, what is there under ground worth 
seeing ? So we took a diligeace, and continued our jour- 
ney. For a few hours the travelling was not unpleasant ; 
but after that we entered upon the most desolate and dreary 
region I ever saw. This is called the Carst or Carso — an 
elevated table-land, extending from the Carniolian moun- 
tains to the head of the Adriatic, and far down its eastern 
coast. It is one vast area of naked rock, rent into chasms 
and fragments apparently by subterranean forces, without 
pool or stream, or scarcely any appearance of verdure. To 
render it the more dreary, it was swept by a bitter wind, 
which howled through every crack and aperture of the 
coach, and occasionally came in such gusts as threatened us 
with destruction. We were fortunate indeed in not being- 
six hours later on the road ; for this was the commencement 
.of the terrible Bora, which for three days afterward raged 
furiously over that frightful waste; and a traveller who 
overtook us the next day in Trieste, informed us that he saw 
several wagons overturned, and blown quite off the road. 
This is no uncommon thing. Such is the violence of that 
wind, that no teamster will venture out while it lasts, and 
even the diligence waits till it is over. It has blown away 
every particle of soil from the rock, and seems sometimes as 
if it would blow away the rock itself. 



72 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

We had travelled thus some hours, as uncomfortable as 
travellers well could be, when we suddenly found ourselves 
on the brow of a hill, overlooking toward the south and west 
a vast expanse of water ; and at our feet, between us and 
the sea, apparently so near that one might cast a stone into 
it, a snug little village, with a vast number of small sail- 
boats moored at its margin. That was the Adriatic; and 
this was the city of Trieste, the most important seaport of 
the Austrian Empire, numbering perhaps seventy or eighty 
thousand inhabitants; and these were the merchant-ships of 
every nation under Leaven, and the great steam-shuttles 
which weave remote kingdoms and continents together ! 
By a beautiful winding road between vineyards and olive 
orchards, we rushed down the terraced hill with great rapid- 
ity; and yet it was three-quarters of an hour before we 
reached the city ; for when we saw it from the top, it was 
more' than five miles distant. Nothing could be more pic- 
turesque than the side of the mountain, and the winding 
way by which we descended ; and in the season of verdure 
and bloom, the view must be truly enchanting. The streets 
of the city are paved with broad flat stones, like the side- 
walks of our best American cities ; and a cleaner city I have 
never seen, not because the people are habitually so cleanly, 
but simply because the streets are too steep for the accumu- 
lation of any particle of filth. The Hotel de la Ville, at 
which we lodged four days, is exceedingly well managed; 
but the charges are enormous. We were obliged to remain, 
for the Bora raged fearfully; and recollecting how Saint 
Paul was " driven up and down in Adria" by just such a 
wind, our dread of it was unconquerable even by the desire 
of seeing Venice. Those days embraced a Sabbath; on 
which we sought " the British Chapel," the only Protestant 
place of worship in the town ; read prayers with them, after 
the manner of the Church of England ; and heard a plain, 



EN ROUTE POR VENICE. 73 

earuest ; faithful, pungent sernion, delivered without notes, 
and for its spirit and manner worthy of any Methodist 
preacher in Europe or America. In the afternoon, weary 
of reading, and wanting exercise, I wandered to the top of 
the hill, whereon the castle stands, where I accidentally 
stumbled upon the old Cathedral, founded in the fifth cen- 
tury, and built with the fragments of earlier structures. 
The tower, it is said, stands on the foundation of a temple 
of Jupiter ; and it is curious to see fine blocks of carved and 
polished marble interspersed among rough stones and bricks 
in the walls. In the evening I entered a Greek church; 
and of all the religious services I ever witnessed, I think 
that which I saw performed there was the most soulless. 
The Greeks have two churches, both of which are very 
richly decorated, and one of which is the largest and finest 
religious edifice in the city. The population of Trieste 
represents " all the nations of the babbling earth" — Greeks 
and Orientals, Jews and Armenians, British and Americans, 
French, Spanish, and Italians ; and all languages are to be 
heard, and all costumes are to be seen, continually in the 
streets. 

After three days the violence of the wind somewhat 
abated, though still it roared fearfully ever and anon in the 
lofty dome of the hotel, and through the forest of masts in 
the harbor. Our valet de clianibre, however, said : " It is 
not now Bora : Bora is finish : it is now for Venezia good 
wind." The next morning, 

"The winds were all hushed, and the waters at rest;" 

and we embarked upon the calm blue Adriatic for "the 
City of the Sea." As the morning advanced, the dark wall 
of the Rhctian and Friulian Alps, which filled one-third of 
the horizon, changed into amethyst; and when the sun 
4 



74 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

broke through the clouds, the amethyst glowed into jasper, 
aud the jasper kindled into chrysolite. The towns along 
the coast, with their white light-houses and lofty campaniles, 
showed beautifully against the jewelled background. We 
went gayly on, over the laughing waters, with as bright a 
sunshine as could be desired, for about seven hours ; and 
were looking forward anxiously to catch the first view of 
Yenice; when, suddenly, the western horizon darkened; 
and, almost without a moment's warning, we were enveloped 
in a fog so dense that we could scarcely see the length of 
the steamer ; and this was accompanied with a cold, search- 
ing wind, which seemed to pierce the very bone. We 
slackened speed, and felt our way very cautiously, and the 
steam-whistle was kept going almost continually. The 
entrance to the harbor is very intricate, and we were some • 
three hours making the distance, which should have 
required but thirty or forty minutes; and when we cast 
anchor amid stately palaces and churches at the mouth of 
the Grand Canal, it was impossible for the eye to penetrate 
the misty veil with which their magnificence was shrouded. 
One of the many gondolas which glide over these strange 
thoroughfares conveyed us rapidly to the Hotel de la Ville, 
where we soon found ourselves more comfortably and plea- 
santly situated than in any similar establishment since we 
left the Astor House; the master obliging, the servants 
attentive, rooms neat, table good, and charges moderate. It 
was stranger than romance, to find ourselves in the palace of 
the Glrassi, in a city whose streets are canals, and whose 
only carriages are boats; and I look back upon the forty 
hours we spent there as a pleasant dream. 



THE QUEEN OP THE ADKIATIC. 75 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE QUEEN OP THE ADRIATIC. 

ORIGIN OP THE CITY — THE DUOMO — THE CAMPANILE — FINE PROSPECT — 

' PIAZZA AND PIAZZETTA THE DUCAL PALACE THE LIBRARY THE 

DUNGEONS CHURCHES THE RIALTO ARTESIAN WELLS ADIEU. 



There is a glorious city in the sea: 

The sea is in the broad, the narrow streets, 

Ebbing and flowing ; and the salt sea-weed 

Clings to the marble of the palaces. 

****** 

With many a pile in more than eastern pride, 

Of old the residence of merchant kings ; 

The walls of some, though time has shattered them, 

Still glowing with the richest hues of art, 

As though the wealth within them had run o'er. 

Rogers. 

As soon as possible, we procured a gondolier and a guide, 
and Went forth in quest of wonders; arid surely there are 
not many cities in which so many and such a variety are to 
be found. The history of the city itself is one of the 
greatest wonders which time has hitherto recorded. About the 
middle of the fifth Christian century, a few Italian fugitives 
sought refuge here from the sword of Attila and the Huns, 
and supported themselves chiefly by fishing and the manu- 
facture of salt. Their commerce flourished, and their 
population increased, and the seventy-two islands grew into 



76 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

groups of palaces and temples, to which there is not a 
parallel in the world. 

In the magnificent Basilica of St. Mark we spent some 
pleasant hours, wandering over floors of rich mosaic, beneath 
arches that glitter with gems and gold, among columns, and 
statues, and bas-reliefs, and monumental inscriptions, and 
relics of departed sanctity. Within and without are more 
than five hundred pillars, of verd - antique, serpentine, 
porphyry, and other precious marbles ; but they are arranged 
without much regard to either taste or utility, and many of 
them seem entirely out of place, having actually nothing to 
do but to encumber the building, and aid in concealing or 
obscuring some of its other beauties. Two very fine ones 
in the vestibule are said to have adorned the Temple of 
Solomon at Jerusalem, and two others near them were 
brought from the Temple of Minerva at Athens; with 
which I held the following colloquy, in the language of 
Bonomi : 

"Care colonne, che fatti qua? 
Non sapiamo, in verita, !'" 

which is, being interpreted : 

"Dear little columns, all in a r«w, 
What do you there ? Indeed, we don't know!" 

It is said that while the building of this fine church was 
going on, every vessel that went from Venice to the East 
was required to bring back a column, statue, or something 
of the sort, for the work, which accounts in part for this 
princely profusion of precious marbles. The walls and 
floors are all of the same costly material, while the vaulted 
ceiling is covered everywhere with mosaics of colored glass 
upon a ground of gold. The statues and bas-reliefs, which 
are very numerous, arc all by the first masters. The trca- 



THE QUEEN OP THE ADRIATIC. 77 

sury contains the richest collection of ancient Byzantine 
jewelry in existence, besides some very precious relics. 
Among the latter are these : a piece of our Saviour's robe, a 
fragment of the pillar to which he was bound, one of the 
thorns with which he was crowned, one of the nails with 
which he was crucified, and a handful or two of earth 
saturated with his blood. And who knows not that here 
repose the remains of St. Mark, to whom the Duomo is 
dedicated ? The relics, however, are kept under lock and 
key, and exhibited to strangers only on Fridays, except by 
special permission ; and the cathedral has one capital defect 
— the want of light sufficient, especially in gloomy weather, 
to see its beauties to advantage. 

Emerging from the glorious twilight, we ascended the 
lofty Campanile, which stands just opposite the portico, on 
the Piazza. This is probably the most perfect structure of 
the kind in Italy. It is forty-five feet in diameter at the 
base, and three hundred and twenty-three in altitude. The 
ascent is by an inclined plane within, not near so steep, I 
think, as some of the streets we had lately climbed in the 
city of Trieste. Napoleon went up on horseback; and 
before his day such a ride was no uncommon thing. At the 
top of the tower, in the large open belfry, whose arches 
support the pyramid, we found a watchman, whose business 
it is to strike the hour upon the great bell, and notify the 
citizens of fires and marine arrivals. 

I wish I could convey to my readers an adequate idea of 
the prospect we here enjoyed. Beneath us was the Piazza, 
with its surrounding colonnades ; the Palazzo Imperiale, 
with its beautiful garden of evergreens; the roof of the 
Duomo, with its majestic domes and minarets; the grand 
old Ducal Palace, with its dark associations of tyranny and 
murder ; and the Torre del' Orologio, with its vast dial, and 
its faithful bronze men, standing with lifted hammers 



78 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

beside tlie bell ; and ever and anon warning the people of 
the lapse of time ; and all around, with its numerous 
palaces and churches upon its seventy-two islands, sat the 
far-spreading city, divided by the broad Canalazzo, running 
in the form of an S nearly through the centre, spanned by 
the noble Rialto, and intersected by a hundred and forty- 
six smaller canals, having more than three hundred bridges ', 
while the Molos, throwing their mighty arms around the 
harbor, seemed saying to the sea, "Hitherto shalt thou 
icome, but no farther, and here shall thy proud waves be 
stayed ;" and the light-houses, standing like sentinels at the 
entrance ; and the ships within, sitting calmly upon their 
inverted shadows; and black gondolas innumerable, gliding 
to and fro, like fairy vehicles, over the streets of water ; to 
the west the railroad, like a great cable thrown across the 
Laguna, mooring the island city to the main-land ; to the 
east the Liddo, along whose strand poor Byron used to 
stray, and where he hoped to be buried ; to the south, as 
far as the eye can reach, long narrow strips of land, forming 
a great natural breakwater, with here and there a passage 
into the blue Adriatic beyond ; to the north, walling in the 
glorious panorama, the Khetian and Tyrolean Alps, which 
lifted their snowy summits to the sun, all glowing with gold 
and sapphire. 0, it was a sight worth travelling half the 
world's circumference to see ! 

We descended into the Piazza San Marco. I must con- 
fess, with Grace Greenwood, that this square is, " of all I 
have ever seen, the one supreme in architectural beauty and 
magnificence. " The arcades which surround it on three 
sides, full of gay shops and trattorias, the grand old palaces, 
the gorgeous cathedral, the campanile, and the clock-tower, 
form an assemblage of objects to which, within so small a 
space, I know not the parallel, and think it would be diffi- 
cult for any one to imagine the superior. The great bell 



THE QUEEN OF THE ADRIATIC. 79 

struck the hour, and " the Pigeons of Saint Mark's" — those 
beautiful creatures, known wherever Venice is named^- 
came to their dinner, which they have received daily in this 
place for several hundred years, some benevolent person 
having bequeathed a sum sufficient for their perpetual sup- 
port. 

We approached the Ducal Palace across the Piazzetta. 
On our left we passed a column of red porphyry, about five 
feet in height and three in diameter; from which, as our 
guide informed us, the laws of the republic were proclaimed. 
Here, also, delinquent debtors were compelled to stand as a 
spectacle to the populace, and criminals to receive their sen- 
tence. The sentence was pronounced by the Doge, from 
between two red pillars of the balcony before us, and exe- 
cuted between two granite columns at our right. These 
latter columns are among the most remarkable things to be 
seen in Yenice. One of them bears a statue of St. Theodore, 
the ancient patron of the city, standing upon a crocodile, 
holding a sword in his left hand and a shield in his right, to 
signify the disposition of the republic more to defend her- 
self than to attack others. The other supports a winged 
lion, with a book in one of his paws, formerly inscribed with 
the words, " Peace on earth, good-will toward men ;" for 
which the French substituted their own gospel, " Rights of 
the man and of the citizen ;" upon which, it is said, a gon- 
dolier remarked, that St. Mark, as well as the rest of the 
world, had turned over a new leaf. These columns were 
brought from Palestine ; but, after their arrival, they lay a 
long time upon the ground, and no one could tell how they 
were to be raised. A noted Lombardian gambler, however, 
accomplished the work, and claimed as his reward from the 
Doge the privilege of playing games of chance, elsewhere 
prohibited by law, between the columns. The demand was 



80 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

granted; but the Council ordered that all public executions 
should be performed in the same place; and even to this day 
the Venetians speak of it with horror, and avoid it with 
superstitious dread. 

Entering by the Porta della Carta, crossing the Grand 
Court within the palace, and ascending the magnificent 
Giant's Staircase, between the two colossal sta,tues of Mars 
and Neptune, by Sansovino, we soon found ourselves in those 
gorgeous halls where the Doges of Venice lived, and ruled, 
and revelled with their nobles. The second room we entered, 
if I recollect correctly, was the saloon of the Great Council ; 
and there were still the seats where sat the awful judges. 
The room is a hundred ' and seventy-five feet in length, 
eighty-five in width, and fifty-two in height ; and its walls 
and ceiling are covered with the finest productions of Titian, 
Bellini, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese. Here is the library 
of St. Mark, containing a hundred and twenty thousand 
printed volumes, and ten thousand manuscripts. Among 
the latter are those of Dante and Petrarch; the works of 
Quintillian and Cicero, transcribed by the latter; the 
entire Iliad, and part of the Odyssey, translated by Leontio 
Pilato, and copied by Boccaccio; with many other fine 
Greek manuscripts, bequeathed by Cardinal Bessarion, who 
followed the example of Petrarch, presenting his invaluable 
collection to St. Mark. 

Leaving this great saloon, we passed through the hall of 
the Council of Ten, the hall of the Senate, the hall of the 
College, the Doge's chapel, and among other apartments, con- 
taining whole forests of statuary, and acres of canvas, all 
glowing with genius and power; and descended to those 
dismal cells, where so many poor wretches dwelt in per- 
petual night; and crossed that fearful bridge, which so many 
traversed to return no more. Ah, how many thrilling stories 



THE QUEEN OP THE ADRIATIC. 81 

have germinated here ! but could these walls and arches tell 
what they have seen and heard, all the gloomy horrors of 
romance and tragedy would be outdone. 

Bidding adieu to these dreary solitudes, we visited the Aca- 
demy of the Fine Arts ; which, however, I shall not attempt to 
describe, for the very best of reasons ; and then wandered from 
church to church, which here, you know, are all museums 
of art, till the eye was actually satisfied with seeing. Of the 
grandeur and magnificence of some of these sacred edifices, 
no one who has not beheld them can possibly conceive any 
adequate idea. Formerly Venice had more churches than 
any other city in Italy ; but many of them were demolished 
by the French ; and many more were desecrated, and applied 
to secular uses. What must have been the wealth of 
the people who reared these stately structures, and filled 
them with such costly decorations, and such heaps of 
treasure ! Among those we visited was the Santa Maria 
Gloriosa de Frari, which contains the tomb of Titian, and 
a colossal monument to his memory, recently completed at 
the expense of the Emperor of Austria — a sitting statue, 
crowned with laurel, under a rich Corinthian canopy. Here 
is also the noble mausoleum of the unfortunate Doge Fran- 
cesco Foscari, immortalized by Lord Byron's tragedy ; and 
opposite this the sis-storied tomb of "the Doge Nicolo Tron, 
fifty feet wide and seventy feet high, adorned with nineteen 
full-length figures, and a profusion of bas-reliefs and other 
ornaments. But the most beautiful of all — and there are 
many more, of Doges, and artists, and saints — is the vast 
pyramid of snowy marble, with its inimitable ti - ain of mourn- 
ers in honor of Canova — a repetition of the sculptor's own 
design for the monument of the Archduchess Christina at 
Vienna. In the old convent buildings attached to this 
church are kept the ancient Venetian archives, filling ninety- 
five rooms, nnd consisting of more than fourteen million 
4* 



82 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

documents, which are seldom seen by foreigners. The luxu- 
rious magnificence of the Church of the Jesuits — the fine 
altar, with its twisted columns of solid verd-antique — its 
walls of precious marble, elaborately carved, and inlaid with 
still more costly material — defies all description. The Church 
of San Zanipolo, three hundred and thirty feet long, and 
its width at the transepts a hundred and forty-two, has been 
called the Westminster Abbey of Venice ; being filled with 
the tombs and monuments of power, and genius, and canon- 
ized sanctity. The Church of Santa Maria Formoso was 
the scene of the well-known affair of the Brides of Venice, 
carried off by the Istrian pirates. The Church of Santa 
Maria della Salute was erected as a monument of gratitude 
to the Virgin after the cessation of the great pestilence, in 
which sixty thousand people perished. But the most inter- 
esting of all — not for its magnitude, its altitude, or its 
ornaments, but for its associations — is that of San Gia- 
como di Rialto, just at the east end of the bridge ; for 
here stood the first church of Venice, whose precise form 
and general appearance are preserved in the present struc- 
ture. 

In the Ponte di Rialto 5 was rather disappointed. It is 
neither imposing in itself, nor highly decorated. With the 
exceptiou of a few statu"es and bas-reliefs, which I did not 
think remarkable specimens of art, it looked to me much 
like any other bridge. But it is not without its interest, 
and as I walked over it again and again, and paused upon it 
to meditate, I felt myself " accompanied/'- as Grace Green- 
wood says, "by viewless beings of the mind, more real than 
any flesh and blood — Shylock and Antonio, Bassanio, 
Lorenzo and Jessica, Desdemona and the Moor." 

Venice in old times depended chiefly upon its cisterns for 
water • or brought it, at great expense, from the mainland. 
Bat now there are many artesian wells, which afford an 



THE QUEEN OF THE ADRIATIC. 83 

abundant supply ; and the water is of a very good quality, 
though slightly chalybeate. 

It was a cold, clear, beautiful morning when we left " the 
Sea-born City." The day was just beginning to dawn; and 
the stars trembled in the waters of the G-rand Canal, as our 
fleet gondola glided over them ; and the poverty and faded 
beauty of the once opulent and magnificent "Queen of the 
Adriatic/' in the dusky twilight, looked more desolate and 
mournful than ever; and the measured dip of the oar, and 
the soft music of the ripple along the basement of marble 
walls, and the warning cry of the gondolier as we shot under 
a bridge or round a corner, were the only sounds that broke 
the stillness of the scene. A sigh for poor Byron, and 
another for the unfortunate Foscari, as we passed, for the 
last time, the stately mansions which are almost synonymous 
with their names. Thirty minutes brought us to the railway 
station ; and in half an hour more, we were rushing over 
the iron track which connects the city with the mainland. 
The water is three miles wide, but nowhere more than four 
feet deep. The Laguna is constantly filling up with the 
alluvium brought down from the mountains ; and along the 
whole coast of the upper Adriatic the land is constantly 
encroaching upon the sea ; and however distant now, the 
day will come when the Venetian canals will be firm ground; 
and what remains of the city, as the fate of some of her 
neighbors forewarns, will be many miles from the shore. 
The bridge consists of two hundred and twenty-two arches 
of brick and Istrian marble, resting upon eighty thousand 
larch piles driven into the mud ; and its construction cost 
nearly five years' labor of a thousand men, with an outlay 
of two hundred thousand pounds sterling. At its eastern 
end stands the fortress of Malghera, the fall of which, eight 
years ago, induced the surrender of Venice, but which has 
since been repaired and enlarged by the Austrian government. 



84 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

The plains of Venetian Lonibardy, upon which we now 
entered, are much like those of Belgium, though not so 
highly cultivated ; and the inhabitants, of course, appear to 
he far less thrifty and comfortable. The land is everywhere 
cut up by canals and ditches, along whose banks are inter- 
minable rows of stately poplars. The chief productions 
seem to be maize, wheat, silk, grapes, and olives. The 
vines, hanging in festoons from tree to tree, were beautiful 
even in winter. We were constantly passing towns and vil- 
lages, and undertook to count their campaniles, but found 
them too numerous for our arithmetic. Everywhere we heard 
the sweet music of the Italian tongue, sung rather than 
spoken, and everywhere saw indications of the Italian love 
of the beautiful. The pillars at the railroad stations were 
adorned with rosettes, and the trees and posts along our path 
were hung with wreaths of evergreens, and the walls and door- 
ways of the humblest dwellings showed the handiwork of the 
painter and the sculptor. One of our fellow-passengers wore a 
pair of pantaloons, decorated with flowers, castles, and animals, 
in the brightest colors. But with all their taste, the people 
are poor, idle, vicious, and degraded, beyond all I had ever 
heard or imagined of Italy, though all this was but "the 
beginning of what we were destined to see. 



MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 85 



CHAPTER VII. 



MILAN AND ITS MARVELS, 



TRIUMPHAL ENTRY THE CATHEDRAL THE ROOF — THE TOWER HISTO- 
RICAL SKETCH OF THE CITY ST. AMBROSE — SAN CARLO BORROMEO. 



Italia! Italia! thou who hast 

The fatal gift of beauty, which became 

A funeral dower of present woes and past, 

On thy sweet brow is sorrow ploughed by shame, 

And annals graved in characters of flame! 

Childe Haeold. 

At eight in the evening of the same day that we left 
Venice, we arrived in the goodly city of Milan. It was a 
grand triumphal entry. The gateway through which we 
passed was a stupendous arch of flame, every building was 
ablaze from base to battlement, and the whole population 
were waiting ^n the streets to receive us. We had not 
looked for such a welcome, and knew not how to account for 
our sudden glory. We had sent no courier to proclaim our 
coming : our secretary had written no letter to the governor : 
how should the municipal authorities have anticipated our 
advent ? and what had made us such favorities with the 
populace ? It was the more puzzling, when we found our- 
selves detained so long at the Dogana, passports demanded, 
and nightgowns examined. As soon, however, as this scrutiny 
had convinced the officers of our proper identity, our trunks 



86 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

were placed upon a handcart, drawn by a human donkey ; 
while a herald went before, across the Piazza and along the 
Corso, shouting stentoriously to clear a passage through the 
crowd ; and we followed on foot, partly because a carriage 
was impracticable, but chiefly that the admiring multitude' 
might have the better opportunity of seeing the illustrious 
personages whom they delighted to honor. The walk was 
less than a mile, but occupied more than an hour, anql we 
must have elbowed our way through at least fifty thousand 
people. It seemed a little strange, that with such an illumina- 
tion, and such an ocean of human life, there was no very 
particular demonstration of popular enthusiasm ; and still 
stranger, on our arrival at the Hotel cle la Ville, that no 
special preparation appeared to have been made for our en- 
tertainment, and we were obliged to accept of such accom- 
modations as are usually furnished for common forestieri, 
though the price that we paid for them was suitable to our 
illustrious rank and triumphal entry. Short-lived, alas, is 
human glory ! "We soon learned that it was not our worthy 
selves, but their Imperial Majesties, Joseph and Elizabeth 
of Austria, whose arrival twenty-four hours before had occa- 
sioned this splendid illumination and popular concourse. 
" How is it," I asked a servant, " that there is no shouting 
in the street V " The people of Milan," she replied, " never 
shout in these days." " But are you not glflcl to see your 
emperor and empress?" "No; we do not love our oppress- 
ors; there is no joy at their coming." "Why then is the 
city illuminated, and the Corso full of people ?" " We are 
fond of spectacles, and all this is necessary to save appear- 
ances." She assured us that these were the popular senti- 
ments, and that the Milanese only wanted a leader, and they 
would soon be free. I was astonished to hear a mere chamber- 
maid discourse of political matters with so much intelligence, 
and again my heart saug within me, 

"Hail, Columbia, happy land!" 



MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 87 

The next day we visited the superb Duomo, the largest 
church in Italy save St. Peter's — four hundred and eighty- 
six feet long, two hundred and eighty-eight feet wide at the 
transept, and a hundred and fifty-three feet high from the 
pavement to the point of the vaulted ceiling. The first stone 
was laid nearly seven centuries ago, and the building is still 
unfinished. The material is white marble, from the moun- 
tains near the Lago Maggiore; the architecture, pointed 
Gothic, with just enough of the Romanesque to relieve its 
severity. The niches and pinnacles of the exterior are orna- 
mented with about four thousand and five hundred statues, 
many of them in the best style of the art; and the comple- 
tion of the design will require, it is said, some fifteen hun- 
dred more. Within, it is not cut up into so many parts as 
Westminster Abbey and the Cathedral of Cologne, and the 
choir is not separated from the nave, so that the whole may 
be seen at a glance. For completeness of detail, and exqui- 
site perfection of finish, there is scarcely any thing equal to 
it in all the wonders of Gothic architecture. It looks as if 
it had been cut out of white paper, and delicately fashioned 
by fair hands, and fit to be kept in a bandbox ; or as if it had 
been intended as a toy, or a costly playhouse, for the baby 
of one of the ancient goddesses of the land. And what, 
indeed, are ' all the fine churches of Italy, but costly play- 
houses for the Virgin Mary ? and what are the pope and his 
cardinals, but dolls and puppets for her amusement ? The 
rich hangings, in honor of the emperor and empress, which 
everywhere covered the walls and pillars, were no addition to 
the beauty of the place ; and the whole was much more im- 
pressive, when we saw it without them, on our return from 
Rome. 

This magnificent church is a basilica, having a nave and 
four aisles, which are divided by four rows of columns, each 
row numbering eight, and every column nearly ninety feet 



OS ( A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

in altitude. The capitals of these columns are richly sculp- 
tured, and the stone fretwork of the lofty arch above is 
exceedingly beautiful. The great doorway in front is flanked 
with two granite pillars, each consisting of a single block, 
the largest of the kind in Europe, which cost nearly ten 
thousand dollars. At the entrance of the choir are two 
immense columns, attached to which, and nearly encircling 
them, are two bronze pulpits, supported by colossal caria- 
tides, and covered with elaborate bas-reliefs. Over the high 
altar is a splendid tabernacle, containing, among other pre- 
cious relics, one of the nails which fastened the Saviour to 
the cross ; and in the rear are three gigantic windows of 
painted glass, each square of which displays a distinct and 
complete historical picture. At the foot of the steps lead- 
ing to the choir, and exactly under the octagonal tower, is a 
grating in the floor, surrounded by a railing, intended to 
admit light into the Silver Chapel below, where the skeleton 
of San Carlo Borromeo lies covered with jewels in a sarco- 
phagus of rock-crystal. A stairway in one of the transepts 
leads down to the shrine, and thousands go there continually 
to pay their homage to the mouldering bones. I saw, 
through an aperture behind the choir, a candle dimly burning 
there ; and a poor, ragged, cadaverous specimen of mascu- 
line humanity on his knees, weeping as if his heart were 
breaking. 

Another subterranean passage conducts to the archiepis- 
copal palace across the street. We eschewed both, and took 
the winding stairs to the roof. It was a long journey, but 
it amply repaid the toil. From the battlements we looked 
down into the broad Piazza, where a band of more than 
eighty musicians were playing a fine opera, upon thousands 
and thousands of people, who were waiting to see the 
emperor and the empress come forth from the palace on 
the opposite side. In a few moments the carriage of Her 



MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 89 

Imperial Beauty appeared, followed by that of the Governor 
of Milan, accompanied by a small corps of cavalry ; but there 
was no shouting, nor waving of kerchiefs, nor casting of 
caps to the skies ; and when we lingered long in expectation 
of .the emperor, we were informed that he would not come 
out, being afraid to show himself to his subjects. 

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." 

Another flight of steps led us to the very apex of the 
marble roof, where we paused again, to contemplate the for- 
est of snowy pinnacles around us, and their sculptured deco- 
rations. There are a hundred and sixty-six needles, all richly 
wrought, and every one surmounted by a colossal statue. 
All the statues and bas-reliefs together amount to six thou- 
sand six hundred and sixteen, and many more are yet to be 
added. From this point we ascended the spire, five hun- 
dred and twelve steps above the pavement; and, according 
to our guide, four hundred feet, though the books make it 
something less. It was a fearful height, and the tremor 
which ran through our nerves was not much relieved by the 
story told us of a lady who, sixteen years ago, fell from the 
battlement beneath us into the Piazza, a distance of nearly 
two hundred feet. But the view from the gallery is glorious : 
the city at your feet, with its palaces and promenades, its 
church -domes and campaniles; beyond its walls, a vast 
extent of meadow, rice-field, and vineyard, adorned with 
villages and villas, and intersected by rivers and canals ; and 
bounding the prospect on all sides, except to the southeast, 
where the valley of the Po is seen stretching away to Lodi 
and Cremona, the mighty walls of the Alps and the Apen- 
nines, serrated, and covered with glittering snow. 

When we had finished our survey, we had paid seven dis- 
tinct fees to as many guides, custodes, and pretenders ; and, 



90 A YEAR IN EUEOPE. 

though. I have no doubt the amount was twice as much as 
was either just or necessary, we felt that we had got the full 
value of our money. A small sum we invested in a 
pamphlet, descriptive of the cathedral and its contents — one 
of the curiosities of modern literature, of which the follow- 
ing item is a specimen: "Two Old Testament pictures; 
the one being Hagar, with Ishmael's son, perishing of thirst 
in the wilderness ; the other being Abraham's wife herself, 
after she had been driven out." This book was written by 
a priest. 

The foundation of Milan, the ancient Mediolanum, dates 
from the sixth century before Christ. It contains a hun- 
dred and sixty-five thousand inhabitants, and is certainly a 
very beautiful city, though artists and critics generally find 
fault with its architecture. The streets are finely paved, 
and somewhat wider than those of most other continental 
cities we have visited. Milan was once the second city in 
Italy, though scarcely a vestige of its ancient splendor now 
remains. In the fifth century it was sacked by Attila, in 
the invasion which originated Venice ; and in the twelfth 
century its foundations were razed, its population dispersed, 
and its very name obliterated from the list of Italian cities, 
by the vengeance of Frederick the First. But this event 
was soon followed by the Great Lombard Confederacy; and 
in five years more the fugitives returned, and rapidly rebuilt 
the city. A century passed, and Milan was again a rich 
and flourishing place, leading the fashions of the civilized 
world, whence the origin of the word " milliner." About 
the middle of the sixteenth century it fell into the hands of 
the Spaniards ; but in the early part of the eighteenth was 
given by the treaty of Utrecht to the Austrians, who, with 
a few unimportant interruptions, have held it to the present 
time. The people, however, are restive and dissatisfied 
under the yoke, and the perpetual parade of Austrian troops 



MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. 91 

can scarcely keep them in subjection. After we left Milan 
I saw flaming accounts in the public prints of the Emperor's 
reception there, and the enthusiasm with which he was 
greeted by his loyal subjects; but it is sufficient to say, 
those accounts were not written by the Milanese, and those 
who write such generally regard the royal favor quite as 
much as they regard 'the truth. 

Two names in the history of Milan are worthy of immor- 
tal fame : that of St. Ambrose, in the third and fourth cen- 
turies, and that of San Carlo Borromeo, in the sixteenth. 

St. Ambrose, who had been educated for the law, was 
appointed prefect of Milan by the Emperor Yalentinian, in 
the year of our Lord 374. This important position he 
occupied for five years, during which he distinguished him- 
self for prudence and justice, and won the hearts of the 
whole community. At the end of that time a tumult arose 
in the cathedral about the election of a bishop, and the pre- 
fect repaired thither to quell the disturbance. A child in 
the crowd, on seeing him, cried out, "Ambrose is Bishop I" 
The assembly caught the words, and shouted with one con- 
sent, "Ambrose is Bishop !" The prefect, the layman, was 
manifestly the compromise candidate, the choice of the peo- 
ple. Confounded and alarmed, he refused the nomination ; 
but the emperor, who held his court at Milan, forced him 
to accept the honor. Ambrose at once made over all his 
property to the Church, and began the devout study of the 
Holy Scriptures. His subsequent labors were earnest and 
incessant, surpassing in amount those of any five bishops in 
the empire. When the Empress Justinia, a patroness of the 
Arian heresy, commenced a persecution against him, and re- 
quired him to surrender his church, he repaired thither, 
and spent whole days and nights in devotion, and employed 
the people in singing hymns and psalms continually, nor 
rested till Arianism was quite expelled from Italy. When 



92 A YEAE IN EUROPE. 

the Emperor Theodosius massacred, without trial and with- 
out distinction, seven thousand people of Thessalonica for 
killing one of his officers, Ambrose resolutely shut the door 
of the church against him for more than eight months, and 
refused the world's master admittance to the house of God 
till he had brought forth fruits meet for repentance. "When 
Austin came from Rome to Milan as professor of rhetoric, 
though sunk in the depths of Manichaeism, the brilliant 
young man was soon charmed by the eloquence of Ambrose, 
who led him to the feet of Jesus and the bosom of the 
Church, and in a few years St. Augustin was the great 
light of the Christian world. The ciceroni of Milan still 
pretend to show the door which the good bishop closed 
against the emperor, and the font in which he baptized his 
illustrious convert. St. Ambrose has been accused of 
nourishing those buds of superstition which had already 
begun to show themselves in the Church, and which two or 
three centuries later blossomed into Popery. With some 
qualification, the charge may be true ; but if history is to 
be relied upon, he lived and died firm in the apostolic faith, 
depending on the merits of Christ alone for justification, 
seeking the illumination and grace of the Holy Spirit, and 
habitually delighting in communion with G-od. A rich 
unction of evangelical piety rests on all his writings ; and 
he appears to have been a most fervent, faithful, laborious, 
and benevolent servant of the Church of Christ. If he 
aided the development of monasticism and the growth of 
prelatical pride, it was unconsciously and without design; 
and the humblest and best of Christian bishops should not 
be held strictly responsible for evils which he never antici- 
pated, and could not possibly foresee. 

Cardinal Borromeo was unquestionably, of all the prelates 
of the Church of Rome in the sixteenth century, the most 
enlightened and spiritual, the most laborious and beneficent. 



MILAN AND ITS MARVELS. S3 

He is represented by his biographer, and regarded through- 
out Italy, as a model of all excellence .and virtue. To find 
such a character in such a connection — to find*so much 
"gold, silver, precious stones," mingling with so much 
" wood, hay, stubble" — is matter equally of wonder and of 
joy; while it warrants the charitable hope'that there may be 
more of real evangelical piety in the papal communion than 
Protestants are generally apt to suppose; and shows the 
identity and the influence of true religion, in circumstances 
the most unfavorable, and under appearances almost contra- 
dictory. 

Carlo Borromeo was created cardinal at the early age of 
twenty-two ; and for several years afterward he managed the 
temporal affairs of the pope, and presided over the Council 
of Trent. In 1565 he was made Archbishop of Milan, and 
went to reside in his drocese. He at once resigned all his 
other' preferments, and gave up the chief of his estates to 
his family. His archiepiscopal revenues he divided into 
three parts — one for the poor, another for the repairing and 
building of churches, the third for his own domestic expend- 
iture — thus devoting two-thircls to charity and religion. 
The splendor and luxury in which he had lived at Rome he 
now totally renounced ; sleeping on boards, wearing coarse 
garments, abstaining from delicate food, fasting long and 
frequently, spending whole nights in prayer, and adopting 
the word Humilitas as his motto. 

Having subjected himself to such severity of discipline, 
he set earnestly about the reformation of his clergy. His 
was the largest diocese in Italy, comprehending nearly nine 
hundred parishes, many of them in the wildest regions of 
the Alps. Yet he visited regularly every one of them, 
preaching and lecturing with indefatigable zeal, and exer- 
cising everywhere the watchfulness of a father. He insti- 
tuted a permanent council, which held monthly sessions, 



94 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

for the purpose of inspecting and regulating the conduct of 
the ecclesiastical orders. In this manner he corrected many 
abuses, removed many causes of scandal, abolished many 
superstitious usages, and did much for the production of a 
better state of morals. Protestants, when they glorify Mrs. 
Wesley and Robert Raikes as the inventors of the Sunday- 
school, are not aware that it was established by Archbishop 
Borromeo in Milan nearly three hundred years ago. He 
erected several colleges also, two or three hospitals, and 
many public fountains; and bestowed annually more than 
thirty-seven thousand dollars upon the poor, besides two 
hundred and fifty thousand dollars in the course of his life 
upon various cases of special need. His humility, his self- 
command, his forgiveness of injuries, the profusion of his 
alms, and the sanctity of his life, gave him great influence 
with the people, and contributed largely to his success. In 
some of his reformatory enterprises he was opposed, of 
course, by the covetous, the ambitious*, or the profligate 
among the priesthood; and his biographers say that the 
higher classes were offended at the faithful plainness of his 
preaching, but the " common people heard him gladly." 
Once, while engaged in prayer, he was shot at by a hired 
assassin ; but he continued his devotions without pausing, 
and when he arose the ball fell from his sleeve. During a 
pestilence, which for six months ravaged the city, nothing 
could restrain him from visiting the sick and the dying; 
and when entreated to consult his own safety, his reply was, 
that a bishop who would not face any danger at the call of 
duty was unworthy of his office. He was continually found 
in the most infected places, administering consolation and 
relief to the perishing people ; and the last small remnants 
of his Roman splendor, even his bed, he parted with for 
their benefit. It is not strange that such a bishop should 
fall a victim to his zeal ; and during a laborious visit to 



MILAN AND ITS MARVELS.. 



95 



some of his mountain parishes, in 1584, this man of Gk>d 
contracted a fever, of which he died. 

That San Carlo Borromeo was warmly attached to the 
Romish Church, perhaps there is little room for doubt; but 
to those who will read his writings, and trace the current of 
his life, there can be just as little, it seems to me, that he 
built upon the true foundation, which, is Christ Jesus. His 
letters and sermons breathe a charming spirit of evangelical 
humility and devotion ; and all his energies of soul and 
body seem to have been engaged in works of piety and love. 
He was the F6nelon of Italy : with a more thorough "know- 
ledge of the word of Grod, and a candid perusal of his 
great contemporaries, the reformers of G-ermany and Swit- 
zerland, he might have been its Luther or its Zuingle. 



/•^ RECEIVED, 

:J02 





96 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CH'APTEE VIII. 

TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 

BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY — ANOTHER, PEEP INTO THE NIGHT-GOWNS — NO- 
VARA VIEW OF THE ALPS BATTLE-FIELDS ALESSANDRIA CROSS- 
ING THE APENNINES GENOA— ENGLISH CHAPEL SEEING THE CITY 

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS THE CATHEDRAL A RELIC LEGHORN 

MONTE NERO ITALIAN NAMES CIVITA VECCHIA GASPERONI AND . 

THE POPE TETE-A-TETE WITH A PRIEST "A FRIEND IN NEED" 

THE DILIGENCE ROME. 

The morning on which we left Milan was as fine as a 
January morning in Northern Italy could possibly be. The 
air was keen and bracing, and there was a slight sprinkling 
of snow upon the ground ; but the sun shone gloriously over 
the landscape, and the vineyards glittered like groves of 
diamonds. When far beyond the gates of the city, we 
turned to take a farewell look at the D'uomo, whose spires 
and statues, seen over the tops of the intervenient buildings, 
seemed a mass of inverted icicles. For many miles the 
country is planted with silk-mulberry trees, interlaced and 
festooned with vines ; and ever and anon a beautiful cottage 
is seen peeping through them ; and here and there a church- 
dome, with its accompanying campanile, towering over 
them ; or a cluster of tall cypresses, marking the site of some 
pleasant villa. Dionysius of Halicarnassus informs us that 
these lands in ancient times produced three crops a year ; 
that their wines and oils were unsurpassed throughout the 



TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 97 

world ; that the fields abounded with cattle, and the forests 
with all sorts of game; that the neighboring mountains were 
clothed with fine timber, and contained vast quarries of the 
choicest marbles ; while the navigable rivers, in every direc- 
tion, afforded constant and easy communication from city to 
city. Whoever travels through Lombardy, even in winter, 
will not find it difficult to credit the most glowing accounts 
of its former affluence and fertility. Italy needs nothing 
but good government and true religion, with the intellectual 
and moral improvement thence resulting, to render it the 
finest country in the world. At present it is Paradise under 
the curse. 

Three hours by diligence, and we came to the Naviglio 
Grande, or Great Canal — worthy of its name — flowing with 
a pure and rapid current, and, with one exception, the 
oldest Mfc)rk of the kind in Europe. Another mile brought 
us to the Ticino, which we crossed upon a well-built granite 
bridge of eleven equal arches, that cost nearly £130,000. It 
was upon the banks of this river, and not far below this 
bridge, that the Romans met Hannibal on his., descent into 
Italy, and fought their first great battle with the invader ; 
and it is still hostile territory to all who come over the Alps, 
however peacefully inclined ; and the brigands of the Aus- 
trian Dogana robbed us of our passports, and then sent them 
after us to San Martino, the Sardinian Dogana ; where, as 
they were indispensable to our progress, we were fain to 
ransom them at about fifty cents apiece. But here were 
other hostilities : the Piedmontese banditti placed ladders 
against the diligence, brought down all our baggage, carried 
it into a large room, and proceeded to investigate the con- 
tents. Well knowing that resistance and expostulation 
alike were vain, I delivered up my keys, and while the im- 
pertinent scoundrels were peeping into the night-gowns, I 
stood perfectly calm, with my hands in my pockets, enjoying 
5 



98 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

a delightful view of the distant Alps, and whistling most 
insultingly : 

" Hail, Columbia, happy land !" 

Finding nothing worth having in our trunks, they locked 
them up again, replaced them on the top of the diligence, 
and very coolly demanded " buona memo," which I, not 
appreciating the favor they had done us, as coolly declined 
giving them. They were not aware that I carried eighty 
sovereigns in a belt upon my person ! 

Seven miles to Novara, a brisk commercial town of sixteen 
thousand inhabitants ; where, not very reluctantly, we bade 
adieu to the diligence, and devoted two pleasant hours to 
the gratification of our spectacles. Nothing could be finer 
than the view of Monte Rosa, thirty or forty miles distant, 
though it seemed not more than six or eight, tinged with 
the glory of the setting sun. To the right rose the Wetter- 
horn, the Schreckhorn and the Jungfrau, with the double 
peak of Saint Gothard, and a hundred pinnacles of the 
Bernese Qberland; while to the left stood the Great Saint 
Bernard, and farther south the giant dome of Mont Blanc, 
still beyond which Mont Cenis guarded the passage from 
Piedmont into France. As the sun descended, the intense 
brilliancy of their snowy summits changed to a glowjing 
purple, which soon deepened into violet. The western sky 
was of a pale orange hue, and the eastern of a dark rose 
color, which blended "in. the blue of the zenith, darkening as 
the day declined. 

Once more on the Strada Ferrata. A shrill whistle, and 
we are away, skirting the battle-field where, on the twenty- 
ninth of March, 1849, after a long and bloody contest, the 
Piedmontese were defeated by the Austrians. Then over 
the Po, and past the field of Marengo, where, on the 14th of 
June, 1800, Napoleon achieved so memorable a victory over 



TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 99 

tlie Austrians ', but it is a frosty night, and not a ghost is 
astir upon the starlit snow which covers the graves of the 
slain. And here is Alessandria, a city of forty thousand 
souls, the most remarkable monument of the Great Lombard 
League of 1167, when eighteen cities confederated for 
mutual protection against imperial tyranny, and built this 
city for a memorial and a defence. It was finished within a 
year from its foundation, and the inhabitants of the sur- 
rounding villages flocked hither for residence, and in a very 
short time formed a prosperous and powerful community ; so 
that seven years afterward, when Frederick I. laid siege to 
the place, he was speedily driven in disgrace from its walls, 
and glad to capitulate with a foe that he had contemned. 
There is nothing here to be seen, except an immense citadel, 
of very massive construction, which night and steam con- 
spire to prevent our seeing. 

Forward to Novi, of silken fame. Now snowy peaks 
begin to rise around us. We are rushing up the Apennines. 
At the summit we run through a tunnel nearly two miles 
long, and afterward descend the narrow valley of the Polce- 
vera, winding about in every direction, among rocky steeps 
and over dark ravines, through deep excavations, and on 
lofty embankments and bridges — romantic enough, no doubt, 
by day, but sublime amid the starry gloom of the night. 
Asleep, and dreaming deliciously. " Genova, Signore I" 
Sure enough, here is the station. As soon as the officials 
have inspected the night-gowns, we hasten to the hotel 
Croce di Malta, where we consult "tired nature's sweet 
restorer," till the Sabbath sun looks over the Apennines, 
and gilds the floating forest in the harbor. 

After breakfast, we went out in quest of public worship ; 
and, after a long walk and frequent inquiry, found the 
English Chapel — an upper room, about forty feet by fifty. 
The service of the English Church was read in a tone of dis- 



100 A TEAR IN EUROPE. 

gusting affectation ; after which we had a very good sermon, 
most unworthily delivered. During the performance, the 
Lord's Prayer was five times repeated. The prayers for the 
Queen were like a Chinese map, which represents the Celes- 
tial Empire as a vast continent, and the other parts of the 
world as so many little islands around it. In the " British 
Chapel" at Trieste, a prayer of respectable length was 
offered for Joseph and Elizabeth of Austria, printed copies 
of which were found in every pew; but here there was 
nothing more than the briefest incidental allusion to His 
Sardinian Majesty, while there were two set prayers for 
" Our Most Grracious Queen Yietoria," besides the several 
petitions in the Litany for " Her Majesty and all the royal 
family." Such is British loyalty. 

The hotel Groce di Malta is an ancient building, whose- 
rooms — now modernized with windows, fire-places, and other 
conveniences unknown to its original occupants — were once 
the cells of the solitary Knights of Malta. At one end is a 
lofty square tower, with four fine century-plants at its four 
corners for pinnacles. Monday morning we ascended this 
elevation, where we had a good view of " Genoa la Su- 
perba," with its crescent of mountains on the one hand, 
and its unrivalled bay and harbor on the other. The houses 
along the mountain-side, rising in terraces one above 
another, present a strange and beautiful appearance ; while 
the fortifications on the surrounding heights, with the 
shipping, the moles that enclose it, the sentinel lighthouses 
at their extremities, and the broad Mediterranean beyond, 
render the scene one of the most varied and pleasing that 
can be imagined. After feasting the eye for an hour, we 
descended, and, map in hand, threaded the labyrinthian 
streets, often not more than eight feet wide, between palaces 
six and eight stories high, with church-domes and campa- 
niles towering sublimely over the roofs. In the upper part 



TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 101 

of the city we found a beautiful open space, laid out in ser- 
pentine walks, and shaded with various evergreens, where 
the citizens promenade in crowds, and where we beheld the 
greater part of the city beneath us, with the harbor beyond, 
and the surrounding amphitheatre of hills — forming a most 
magnificent panorama. The fortifications overlooking the 
town — some of them from a height of more than sixteen 
hundred feet, and garrisoned by seven hundred soldiers — 
are said to be more extensive than those of any other city in 
Europe, except Paris. 

Genoa abounds in remnants of Roman grandeur, and 
many of its finest residences and churches are built upon the 
foundations of ancient palaces and temples. The cathedral 
was erected in the eleventh century, but has received many 
modern improvements and additions, so that it presents an 
unsightly jumble of all styles of architecture. One of the 
friezes displays an inscription, stating that the city was 
founded by Janus the First, King of Italy, and grandson of 
Noah; and taken by Janus the Second, Prince of Troy. 
Into the chapel of John the Baptist, where his relics are 
preserved, no female is ever admitted, save on one particular 
day of the year, because Herodias and her daughter occa- 
sioned the martyrdom of that saint. There is a vessel kept 
in the treasury, said to have been presented by the Queen 
of Sheba to Solomon, used by our Lord in the last supper 
with his disciples, and by Joseph of Arimathea to catch the 
blood which flowed from the Redeemer's side upon the cross. 
It was brought by the crusaders from the Holy Land, and 
the priests long pretended that it was made from a single 
emerald, and fetched it forth thrice a year from the sacristy ; 
for the veneration of good Catholics ; but all this turned out, 
as some had suspected, a mere imposition upon popular cre- 
dulity; for the invaluable catino, at the sight of which 
thousands had wept and wondered, but which it was impris- 



102 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

onraent or death for common hands to touch, was ascertained 
to be nothing bnt colored glass. 

We saw the monument, a very handsome one, which 
they are erecting in honor of Christopher Columbus, but 
could not get a sight of his letters; which latter are kept 
under a glass case, lest Americans should steal them ; and, 
like every thing else in Italy, shown for a price. 

That night we slept on the Mediterranean, and the next 
morning awoke in Leghorn. The steamer tarried here eight 
hours ; and we made good use the while of our spectacles ; 
and those public pickpockets, the police-officers, made good 
use of our purses ; and the lazzaroni, those never-failing tor- 
mentors, made good use of our patience ; and the veturini 
and ciceroni, those indispensable annoyances, made better 
use of both. Leghorn is not a very ancient city, and pos- 
sesses comparatively few" interesting works of art ; but some 
of its sacred edifices are well worth a visit, if not for the 
imposing architecture of their exterior, yet for their interior 
decorations and costly treasures. We entered only the Jew- 
ish synagogue and one of the Grreek churches — the former 
containing a great variety of precious marbles ; the latter 
elaborately ornamented with painting and gilding, and en- 
riched with some very rare and curious things. The sacris- 
tan showed us a magnificent copy of the Holy Bible, bound 
in massive plates of gold ; and a large number of sacerdotal 
robes, stiff with precious metals, and heavy with glittering 
gems — any one of which might purchase a comfortable ward- 
robe for all the beggars in town. We next procured a hack, 
and rode out to Monte Nero, an elevation overlooking the 
city and the sea, and crowned with a monastery and a 
church. Here is a picture of the Virgin, which, five hun- 
dred years ago, sailed hither, unaided and alone, from one 
of the Grecian islands; and has ever since been to the 
Livomese, and very properly, an object of peculiar venera- 



TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 103 

tion. Having reconnoitred the buildings, we ascended still 
higher; and, from the top of the mountain, saw Leghorn, 
with all its pleasant environs, spread out like a map before 
us ; the valley of the Arno, stretching away toward Pisa and 
Florence, and awakening in the mind pictures of leaning 
towers, and vast galleries of the Belle Arti; on the other 
hand, in full view, the islands of Elba and Corsica, recalling 
the strange history of him whose achievements changed the 
fate of Europe and the world ; and while I gazed at those 
blue masses rising out of the Mediterranean, and mused on 
the wretched condition of Italy and the Papal nations, I 
could not help thinking that our own Kirwan was right — that 
a man with the genius of Napoleon and the virtues of Wash- 
ington was indeed u the great want of the world," for which 
" the whole earth should cry to Heaven \" We returned to 
the steamer, and bade adieu to Leghorn. 

By the way, what a pity the sweet Italian name Livomo 
should ever have been barbarized into Leghorn ! And why 
do we say Rome instead of Roma, and Turin instead of 
Torino, and Milan instead of Mllano, and Florence instead 
of Firenze, and Venice instead of Venezia, and Naples 
instead of Napoli? The Italian is certainly as easy of pro- 
nunciation, and much more agreeable to the ear. 

The next morning at sunrise we dropped anchor in the 
harbor of Givita Vecchia, close under the wall of that dis- 
mal castle where, through the tender mercies of His Holiness, 
the wretched G-asperoni, during a long series of years, ex- 
piated his many murders. This is one of the purgatories — 
there are many others — of which the successor of St. Peter 
keeps the key, with unquestionable power to bind and loose. 
Was his dealing with the aforesaid sinner a specimen of his 
truth ? It is said the famous brigand was assured that, 
upon condition of his surrender, he should be pardoned 
Trusting in the faith of the Vicar of God, and weary, per 



104 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

haps, of a life of crime, lie delivered himself up. The 
Vicar of God kept his word by incarcerating him for life in 
a dungeon. Lately he was removed to an inland prison, 
where, it is reported, he has since died. Gasperoni was not 
well pleased with his treatment, charging the pope with 
treachery, and declaring that about thirty or forty murders 
were all he ever committed. Alas ! many better men, for no 
other crime than their- fidelity to God and his truth, have 
suffered much more in the hell of the inquisition — years of 
starvation, with periodical tortures, and death in its most 
dreadful forms. 

Having waited about two hours for the accommodation of 
the custom-house officers, we were allowed to go on shore in 
a little boat; but being forestieri — foreigners — the boatman 
charged us twice as much as he charged the Italians who ■ 
were with us, nor would he consent to land us for less. Of 
the forty or fifty commissionaires clamoring on the wharf for 
the privilege of serving us, we selected one of the most 
honest-looking, put our baggage into his hands, and followed 
him to the filthy Hotel cV Europe. Here we learned that the 
diligence would not leave for Rome till some time after noon, 
and I improved the intervenient hours by a pedestrian 
exploring excursion through streets and lanes the least invit- 
ing I have ever seen. I certainly saw the best part of the 
town, for I saw it all ; but I saw no place where I would 
consent to spend my days, for the whole area, and its entire 
contents, with the forty miles of campagna between it and 
" the Eternal City." And this is the ancient Centum Cellos; 
this is the city of Trajan, and the favorite retreat of the 
Roman emperors. Pliny found it " a right pleasant place ;" 
but to-day it wears as sorry an aspect as any that the sun 
shines upon. There is nothing here but mud, and rags, and 
fleas, and swine, and beggars, and pickpockets, and poor 
heavy-laden donkeys, and modern dwellings resting on wor- 



TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 105 

thier ruins, and castles, and prisons, and churches, all in 
keeping. 

Returning to the hotel, I found Mrs. Cross holding a tete- 
a-tete with a long black robe, surmounted by a broad three- 
cornered hat, and enclosing a very polite specimen of the 
Romish priesthood. He was a missionary to India, where 
he had spent the last fifteen years ; had been in Italy three 
months on a visit, and had just come from Rome to reern- 
bark for his distant field of labor. He had with him a 
native of Rurmah, whom he said he had made a Christian. 
We found him very talkative and agreeable; and, to all 
appearances, an honest man. He told us that they had in 
India at least a thousand missionaries, fifteen bishops, a hun- 
dred colleges, and plenty of nuns — something for the Pro- 
testant Churches to think of! He told us, also, that there 
are now in the Propaganda at Rome thirteen young Ameri- 
cans, preparing for the priesthood — something for American 
Christians to ponder ! In recommending to us certain lodg- 
ings in Rome, he said : "They are good people : I was there 
myself: the padrone is very good man: you can leave your 
purse on the table when you go out, and it will be there 
when you come back I" Rut when we inquired as to the 
expense, he replied : " You can get the rooms for twenty- 
five scudi a month, perhaps for twenty : they will ask you 
forty, because you are forestidri : they will get all they can 
from forestieri : you must be careful : you must make good 
bargain : you must not let them cheat you." So this is a 
priest's idea of a good man : he will not steal your purse, 
but he will cheat you if he can. What is to be expected of 
a country where the religious teachers of the people have no 
higher standard of morality ? 

Soon after twelve the diligence was ready, and so were 
we. Rut 0, Pio Nono ! what a clamor for buono memo ! 
Our commissionaire, and three or four facehim, were exor- 
5* 



106 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

bitant, importunate, stentorious. It was not enough that we 
had paid two prices for landing, and three prices for break- 
fast, and a dollar for the vise of our passport ; nor was it 
enough that half the population had followed us begging 
through the town, and the prisoners stretched out their 
hands through the grated windows for carita as we passed ; 
but now there are not less than half-a-dozen distinct demands 
for unknown services, and innumerable hats thrust at us 
from every quarter, with imploring cries for qualcha cosa. 
Perplexed, bewildered, and almost desperate, I was just 
ready to throw all my change to the crowd, when I was 
startled by the question, in perfect English : " Can I be of 
any service to you, sir V 1 Looking up, I saw at my elbow a 
handsome little man, in a gray suit, with a delicate ratan in 
his hand. "I am the American Consul," he added, "and- 
have come to see if I can render you any assistance : stran- 
gers are subject to great annoyance here; these people would 
cheat you out of your eyes." He took the money out of my 
hand, and soon dismissed the several claimants, and drove 
away the lazzaroni with his stick. Then he explained to 
me the Eoman currency; told me what I had to pay each 
postilion on the road ; gave me his card, with the name of a 
good hotel in Rome ; assisted Mrs. Cross into the coach, and 
bade us adieu in the politest manner. By no means an un- 
pleasant incident in such a den of thieves ! 

Travelling by diligence in Italy is not the most delightful 
thing imaginable. The carriages are awkward and uncom- 
fortable, the progress intolerably slow, and the postilions 
insolent. In feeing these short-tailed officials, I adhered 
scrupulously to the instructions of the Consul ; but the short- 
tailed official's looked blank, then sour, then furious, and at 
last threw back the money indignantly. By such means 
these men often extort considerable sums from travellers, for 
most people would rather pay an extra paolo or two than 



TO THE ETERNAL CITY. 107 

have their necks broken ; but in this instance the effort was 
a failure, and I doubt not the disappointed wight in the 
sequel regretted his menace. When the nuisance will be 
abated, I cannot tell, because I know not when the railway 
to Rome will be finished. It took a long time for the 
government to determine upon the expediency of building 
it, and it seems likely to require a longer for the execution 
of the work. 

It was now growing dark, and I know nothing more of the 
campagiia or the road, except that it was constantly up and 
down the hills, with innumerable curves and bridges, till 
about ten o'clock, as we were rattling down a descent close 
under a lofty wall, when all at once the dome of St. Peter's 
broke upon our sight, like a temple in the sky. In a few 
moments more we were within the wall, and making the 
curve of that majestic colonnade — which seemed a wilder- 
ness of pillars — encircling the piazza in front of that most 
magnificent of churches. And now, at the fine Hotel de 
Minerve, to which our polite little friend at Civita Vecchia 
recommended us with his compliments, let us rest till morn- 
ing — our first night in " The Eternal City." 



108 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER IX. 

FIRST DATS IN ROME. 

SEEKING APARTMENTS SETTLED, UNSETTLED, AND RESETTLED THE 

SABBATH PRIESTLY DESPOTISM A LITTLE LEAVEN STREET SPEC- 
TACLES BLESSINGS FOR BEASTS BEGGARS PANORAMA-LECTURE 

— THE CITY OE THE CiESARS — THE CITY OP THE POPES. 

The next morning I went forth in search of Mr. Johnson, 
an American artist, to whom I bore a letter of introduction. 
But how to find the needle in the hay-stack, that was the 
question. Perhaps I may obtain some information at the 
Piazza di Spa-gna. A guide offers his services, who knows 
Mr. J. very well, and will bring me straight to his studio. 
He leads the way : I follow. But at the first corner he stops 
to inquire for u Mosoo Zhonse, scidptore Americano." u No, 
no!" cried I; " Mr. Johnson, American painter!" The 
Italian knave evidently knew nothing of the man. I re- 
solved, however, that he should fulfil his promise. After 
more than an hour's walk, with frequent inquiries for 
" Mosoo Zhonse," we find that gentleman in the Via Babu- 
ino. Having read the letter, he proposes to go with me at 
once in quest of apartamenti. His amiable little wife,, who 
speaks Italian fluently, accompanies us in the character 
of interpretess. Four full hours we travel through all sorts 
of streets, down all sorts of lanes, up all sorts of stairs, into 
all sorts of houses, among all sorts of people, not because 



FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 109 

there are no rooms for rent, but because so few are properly 
furnished, and fewer still to be had at a reasonable price. 
The grand holydays are at hand, and the forestieri are 
flocking to Rome, and the most exorbitant demands are 
made for furnished apartments. After dinner, without our 
interpretess, Mr. Johnson and myself renew the quest. In 
the Via de Condotti we are shown a very neat set of rooms, 
well furnished withal, and the rent only " trcnta scudi per 
mese." The old woman seems anxious to close the bargain. 
A pair of bright eyes are watching us from a slightly opened 
door. We prefer that the ladies shall see the place, and 
promise to call again. " Una momento, Signori !" exclaims 
the old woman ; and then she calls aloud, "Angela I" and 
in bounds a beautiful girl of sixteen. A sweeter face I saw 
not in Italy. She was exceedingly well attired, and played 
some very pretty coquettish airs; half hiding behind her 
mother, and doing her utmost endeavors to blush. And 
this fair Signorina, we were informed, would wait upon our 
table, and make our beds, and be wholly at our command. 
We were evidently taken for two single gentlemen, and im- 
mediately corrected the error. But this unlucky piece of 
information ruined all our hopes. The Padrona's price was 
forty scudi, and the rooms could not be let to a man with a 
wife! We saw no more of the coy glances of the little 
maiden ; and a cloud came over her pretty features, as she 
closed the door behind us. 

The next day Mr. Bartholomew, an American sculptor, 
kindly joined our party, and we found rooms with which we 
were well plSas'ed on the Via Babuino. There was nobody 
at home but a young girl, who told us that the rent of the 
apartments was twenty scudi. But could they not be obtained 
for less ? " yes, for sixteen." Now the padrona entered, 
chid the girl for putting the rent 'so low, but finally concluded 
the bargain with us for the same price. I immediately set- 



110 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

tied my bill at the hotel, removed our baggage hither, bought 
a load of wood, and we began life in Eome. In the evening 
the pa drone came from his studio, and there was an angry 
colloquy in the other part of the house. Shortly he entered 
our apartments and said : "You have engaged these rooms; 
you are to pay in advance; I must have the sixteen scudi 
this night." I told him I had nothing but French or Brit- 
ish gold, and it would be difficult to make the exchange so 
late on Saturday evening, but Monday morning I would give 
him Roman money. "No," said he, with violence, "but I 
must be paid to-night, and in Roman currency I" I went to 
consult Mr. Johnson as to what was to be done. Mr. John- 
son brought in Mr. Bartholomew. Mr. B. has a facile use 
of the Italian tongue, and a thorough knowledge of Italian 
character and customs. The Romans fear him, and call him 
" Signore Diavolo." " Signore Diavolo" enters, calls for the 
padrone, and awaits him, standing, in the middle of the floor. 
Padrone instantly obeys the summons — a small man, fine- 
looking, with an eye as fierce as an eagle's — one of Doctor 
Young's 

" Souls of fire, and children of the sun, 
With whom revenge is virtue." 

Mr. B. coolly inquires what he means by demanding imme- 
diate payment, contrary to legal custom. Padrone bursts 
with rage. Mr. B. steps back a little, assumes the attitude 
of an emperor, surveys the Italian from head to feet with an 
annihilating glance, then opens upon him such a battery as 
might have demolished one of the old Roman battalions. 
Roscius, thou shouldst have been there! Padrone's crest 
suddenly falls; in five minutes he is as humble as a whipped 
spaniel, perfectly willing to wait for his money, and hopes 
we will remain in the apartments. " They will not remain," 
exclaims Mr. B. ; "I have advised them to leave, and will 



FIRST DAYS IN ROME. Ill 

myself find another place for theru on Monday." Then he 
turns upon his heel ; and retires as he entered; after which 
padrone, with many apologies, hows himself out of the room. 
It was altogether one of the finest dramatic scenes I ever 
witnessed; albeit, Mrs. C. deemed it prudent to pile sundry 
chairs, tables, sofas and bureaus against the door, before we 
lay down to sleep. 

Sunday morning came, and your forestieri were safe. A 
boy from a neighboring trattoria brought us a "bifstecca," 
(beef-steak,) a roll of bread, and a cup of caffe latta. This 
having enjoyed, with prayer and thanksgiving to our Heaven- 
ly Father, we accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Johnson to the 
Braschi Palace for worship. The large hall was much crowded, 
and it was pleasant to see so many Protestant sects repre- 
sented in the assembly, all unmindful of the several pecu- 
liarities of creed and custom which divided them at home. 
Mr. Hall, a Congregational minister from New England, 
conducted the service; and Mr. Bartholomew, assisted by 
several American artists, led the singing. The Braschi Pal- 
ace is the residence of our Minister, Mr. Cass, and the gen- 
eral Sabbath rendezvous of American sojourners in Borne; 
for under the stars and stripes they are permitted to worship 
God in their own manner, while no such honor is conferred 
upon the flag of any other Protestant nation, though the 
English have a small chapel just without the Porta del Popolo, 
where nothing need be apprehended particularly offensive to 
His Holiness. We worshipped in the Braschi Palace every 
Lord's day during our residence in Borne, and once I had 
the privilege of preaching there, and several times assisted 
in the administration of the Holy Supper. If not to Rome, 
yet to many a sojourner, this Bethel may prove a blessing. 
It was a blessing to us. 

Monday morning we we*e out again in search of rooms, and 
soon succeeded in securing very comfortable quarters on the 



112 A YEAE IN EUROPE. 

Via Frattina. The writings were drawn by Mr. B., and 
duly signed by the parties; and now behold us, admiring 
reader, more independent than Augustus upon the Palatine, 
with an Authoress for a cook and a Doctor of Divinity for a 
butler, dwelling, as Paul once did a little way down the 
Corso, in our "own hired house/' and "receiving all who 
came in." Pardon me — not all ! for one day came a priest, 
with incense and holy water, to bless and sanctify our apart- 
ments, whose pious offices we respectfully declined; and 
another day came a hooded and sandalled monk, with his 
little alms-bos, imploring carita for his order, to whom also 
we could not hearken; and afterwards came troops of beg- 
gars — some for the Church, and some for themselves — some 
with oral supplications, and some with letters addressed to 
"The Illustrious and Most Benevolent Signore Grieuseppe 
Croce and his Most Worthy MogliaGriovanna" — none of whom 
could we find in our hearts to admit. Among those whom 
we did receive, however — American artists, English tourists 
and Roman citizens — We found some very agreeable society 
There were Messrs. Bartholomew, Akers and Mosier, sculp 
tors ; Messrs. Johnson,- Nichols, Williams and Bothermel 
painters; Mr. Page, also, with his three amiable daughters 
and several other ladies of accomplished minds and man- 
ners; the Bev. Mr. Forbes, an English clergyman; the 
Bev. Mr. Hall, our excellent chaplain; Mr. Irving N. 
Hall, a far-travelled young gentleman from Connecticut; 
Mr. Anthony S. Dey, an enlightened and most estimable 
bachelor from New York; Professor Sanguinetti, of the Bo- 
man University, a rather indifferent papist; Abate Scotti, a 
priest who has more faith in the forcstieri than in the mum- 
meries of his own profession, and who frankly confessed that 
his ouly motive in taking orders was to secure a comfortable 
subsistence without labor. • 

Apropos of the priesthood : One of these gentlemen told 



FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 113 

us of a young lady who would not go to confession, and 
was therefore sent to a dungeon. The holy father told her 
to expect during the night a visit from the devil. Accord- 
ingly, about the middle of the night, she heard dismal groans, 
accompanied with the clank of chains. The door of her cell 
opened, and a frightful apparition stalked in, visible by the 
light of a blue flame, and diffusing a horrid smell of sulphur. 
The next morning the poor girl was a maniac; and soon 
afterward a corpse. 

Mr. Hall informed us that in several instauces Romans had 
come to him to express their dissent from the doctrines, and 
their disgust with the practice*, of the Papal Church. One, 
who belonged to a religious order, and had held an important 
official connection with a convent, was extremely anxious to 
find means of escape from the country. Another, who, at 
the order of his father, was in course of training for the 
priesthood, to which he had the strongest aversion, said that 
if he could once get out of Italy, he would thwart the pa- 
rental purpose by marrying as soon as possible. Nothing but 
a settled conviction of the falseness and corruption of the 
papal system had induced these desires and resolutions. Mr. 
H. procured one of these persons a situation as courier to 
an English family travelling on the continent, and the other 
some unimportant commission in Paris^ which answered, at 
least, as a pretext on which he might ge^ a passport; but in 
each case there was the observance of the utmost caution, 
and the greatest fear of being suspected. 

Our location in the Via Fratina was a very favorable one 
for witnessing many interesting spectacles. Here frequently 
passed the cardinals, on their way to the Propaganda Col- 
lege, which is situated at the head of the street. Funeral 
processions, with hired mourners, and long trains of monks, 
in brown robes and hoods, were constantly creeping by; and 
often a company of priests, carrying the host under a gay 



114 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

canopy to the chamber of some sick person ; burning their 
wax candles, ringing their little bells, and chanting their 
Latin prayers, as they went slowly and solemnly along, while 
all who met them dropped upon their knees in the street. 
The most memorable procession to me, however, was one of 
horses, which I met one morning coming down from the 
church of San Antonio Abate, whither they had been to be 
blessed. This interesting ceremony takes place on the seven- 
teenth of January, which is the festa of San Antonio, and 
during the following week. The horses of His Holiness, 
and those of the cardinals, princes, and nobles, are brought 
to the front of the church in fich caparisons. Here stands a 
priest, who dips a brush in a bucket of holy water, and 
sprinkles it upon the animal, making the sign of the cross, 
and mumbling his benediction. That horse cannot balk, 
nor kick, nor stumble disastrously, nor run away inconti- 
nently, for twelve months to come ; and is, for the same 
period, proof against accident and disease. To the horses of 
the postmasters a blessing is especially important, because 
they carry the mail, and are often in danger from the ban- 
ditti. The peasants also seldom fail to seek this invaluable 
benefit for their mules and donkeys. The cavalcade of 
which I speak were evidently conscious of the grace which 
they had received ; for while some moved slowly along, as if 
in solemn meditation, others arched their necks with a spe- 
cial sublimity, as if puffed up with spiritual pride, and 
others again danced for very joy, as if they had just come 
from a camp-meeting. 

I had heard much of Italian beggars and begging ; but 
the half, the hundredth even, had never been told me. 
Hans Christian Andersen's old Beppo still does a brisk busi- 
ness on the steps of the Trinifa dei Monti, where he is 
licensed according to law to practice his impositions upon 
strangers. This miserable old cripple, it is reported, has 



FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 115 

many thousand scudi at interest ; and yet he rides hither 
every morning, ties his donkey to a contiguous ilex, and 
hops to and fro like a frog till sunset, presenting his- hat to 
every passenger, with a — "Bon giorno, signore ; Deo com- 
jpane" — Grood morning, sir; God be with you. I stood one 
day, and observed him for an hour, during which more than 
thirty persons gave him money. He never thanks the 
donor; and lately when some one asked him the reason, he 
replied, " It is nothing to me ; you give as a' penance for 
your sins !" Near the foot of the stairs I often met with 
a lad of ten or twelve years, who begged for a blind father; 
plying the hearts of the passers-by with so pleasant a voice, 
and so polite a manner, that it was difficult to resist his plea. 
There were also two little models, a boy and a girl, much 
younger, generally to be found in the Piazza di Spagna ; 
whose contadini attire was so picturesque, and whose address 
was altogether so bewitching, that I never failed to give 
them a bajocclio apiece, though I saw them almost every 
day. I seldom walked out in any direction without encoun- 
tering a youth with immense blue eyes, leading a blind 
brother, who followed from street to street, with the most 
annoying importunity; or a cadaverous apparition, with a 
withered arm dangling uncovered from the shoulder, one of 
the most revolting objects I ever beheld. These are only a 
few specimens. Rome is a city of beggars, literally living 
upon the forestieri ; and without foreign patronage the city 
of the pope would perish. This was her harvest season ; but 
after Easter, the crowd of strangers scattered, the artists 
repaired to the mountains, the tourists journeyed their 
several ways, even the writer " took his hat and dispersed," 
and Rome again was stagnant. 

One beautiful day, map in hand, we ascended the tower 
of the Capitol, which stands between the Rome that was aud 
the Rome that is, the dead and the living Rome ; and there> 



116 A YE All IN EUROPE. 

with an atmosphere perfectly transparent, enjoyed the en- 
chanting panorama — the modern city, the ancient ruins, the 
golden Tiber, the far-spreading Campagna, and its boundary 
wall of classic mountains, gleaming with gold and crystal. 
Let the reader imagine himself one of the party, while I, as 
lecturer, proceed to point out the more important objects in 
the picture, and instruct him a little in the topography of 
the Eternal City. We will not 

"Plod our way 
O'er steps of broken thrones and temples;" 

it were too laborious ; but from this advantageous elevation, 
we will look down upon the wreck of human glory at our 
feet, where wall, and arch, and shaft, and capital, have lain 
crumbling for many centuries. Turn toward the south, and 
let us begin in due form : 

"The Niobe of nations! there she stands, 
Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; 
An empty urn within her withered hands, 
Whose holy dust was scattered long ago ; 
The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now; 
The very sepulchres lie tenantless 
Of their heroic dwellers : dost thou flow, 
Old Tiber ! through a marble wilderness ? 
Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress." 

Ladies and gentlemen : You see before you the cij;y of the 
Cassars, " lone mother of dead empires I" The Capitoline, 
upon which you stand, is one of the seven hills. The six 
others lie around you in the form of a crescent. On your 
right, rising abruptly from the Tiber, is the Aventine, the 
loftiest of them all, crowned with three churches, and con- 
stituting a very picturesque object. Separated from this by 
a narrow valley, stands the Palatine, where Romulus first 
reared his habitation, and the Caesars afterward had their 



FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 117 

palace. The arches of the foundation are still there, sur- 
mounted by that beautiful English villa. In a broader val- 
ley to the east you see the Coliseum, where gladiators 
fought, and martyrs suffered; and beyond it, the GeUmn, 
with the maguificent basilica of Saint John Lateran at its 
farther extremity. Turning your eyes still to the left, you 
find another and broader elevation, on which are the ruined 
Baths of Titus, the Temple of Minerva Medica, and the 
gorgeous modern Church of Santa Maria Maggiore. This is 
the JEsquiline. That massive leaning tower, and o+her struc- 
tures contiguous, partly conceal the lower ground between it 
and the Quirinal. The highest point of the latter is called 
Monte Cavallo, and that large palace upon the top is the 
usual summer-dwelling of the pope. The. broad table-land 
beyond is the Viminal, the last of the seven, partly occu- 
pied by the Baths of Dioclesian and the Church of San 
Lorenzo. North of this you see Monte Pincio, with its 
graceful cypresses, its laurels and magnolias; and inter- 
spersed among these, with the aid of your lorgnette, you 
may perceive long lines of statuary. The grounds are taste- 
fully laid out in curvilinear walks and carriage-roads, fringed 
with various flowers and tropical shrubbery, and artificial 
forests of evergreen, with here and there a lofty stone-pine, 
like a vast parasol, shading its emerald beauty. This is the 
favorite resort of the modern Romans ; and the distant music 
that you hear is from the band playing there in front of the 
fountain for the gratification of the multitude. Now draw a 
line directly through the city, from this point to the Aven- 
tine, on the opposite side, where we began; and the area 
enclosed between it and the line of the ancient wall, which 
from our advantageous eminence may be easily traced out- 
side of all the objects and localities I have indicated to you, 
comprehends the whole space occupied by the Ante- Augus- 
tan Rome, nearly in the form of a half-moon. 



118 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

But turn again to the southeast. Close on your left once 
stood the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus ; on your right, the 
Arx Gapitoli; just beyond which is still to be seen the 
Tarpeian Rock — 

" The promontory, whence the traitor's leap 
Cured all ambition." 

The large open space exactly before you, and almost at your 
feet — partly excavated, and everywhere strewn with ruins- 
was the Forum Romanum, the very heart of the ancient 
city. That semicircular wall, with the concave side toward 
us — partly covered by the present road — was the Rostrum, 
from which rolled the sonorous periods of Cicero. That 
massive arch, covered with bas-reliefs, at its left end, is the 
triumphal arch of Septimius Severus. The eight large 
Ionic columns at its other extremity are part of the portico 
of the temple of Saturn. The three fine Corinthian shafts 
of white marble between us and the rostrum belonged to the 
temple of Vespasian. Just to the left of these you see a 
portion of the variegated marble pavement of the temple of 
Concord ; between which and our present station, but so 
near as to be concealed by the building beneath us, is the 
place where the senate held its sessions. On the right of 
the columns, also invisible, are the remains of the portico of 
the Scola Zanilia, where sat the notaries, amid the statues 
of the twelve Dei Consenti. Passing under the arch of 
Septimius Severus, you trace an ancient way, paved with 
large polygonal blocks of stone, deeply indented by chariot 
wheels : it is that by which the emperor ascended into the 
capitol. The building nearest the arch on the left is a 
modern church, beneath which are the Mamertine Prisons, 
where it is said both Saint Peter and Saint Paul were incar- 
cerated. The single pillar nearly in front of the rostrum, 



FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 119 

and on the farther side of the present road, is that which 
Byron, in Childe Harold, calls 

" The nameless column, with the buried base ;" 

but since the poet's day, its base has been -uncovered, and an 
inscription upon it proves that it was erected in honor of 
Phocas, and once supported his statue. The large oblong 
excavation on the right of the forum reveals the broken 
columns, and some of the marble pavement, of the Basilica 
Julia. Beyond it are three richly-wrought Corinthian pil- 
lars, about which antiquarians have not yet ceased quarrel- 
ling, and I shall have nothing to say. The arch beyond them 
— the most beautiful of all the Roman arches — is that of Titus, 
reared in commemoration of the conquest of Jerusalem. 
It is covered with bas-reliefs ; one of which represents the 
victor in his triumphal chariot; and another, the golden 
candlestick of the temple, borne as a spoil in the procession. 
The Via Sacra, the pavement of which you see passing 
under the arch, was the favorite walk of Horace. That 
huge and lofty ruin, some distance to the left of it, is part 
of the Basilica of Constantine — formerly the supposed 
remains of the Temple of Peace. The whole space — now 
covered with buildings — between this and the Forum of 
Trajan, yonder at the foot of the Quirinal, is thought to 
contain the most valuable remains of Imperial. Pome; but 
they lie many feet beneath the surface, and their disinter- 
ment would be attended with great expense. 

Ladies and Gentlemen : You have seen the city of the 
Cassars : Will you look at the city of the Popes ? Saint 
Peter's, at least, though nearly two miles distant, merits a 
momentary glance. Step round to the other side of the 
tower. Ay, there it stands, beyond the Tiber, and the 
Castle of Saint Angelo — a mountain of masonry, yet finished 
like a jewel — the most magnificent basilica in the world. 



120 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

How every thing dwindles into insignificance around it, 
and.the yast sis-storied range of the Vatican looks a child's 
play-house beneath its walls ! What a majestic dome — as 
large as the Pantheon which you see before you — and yet 
how perfect in its proportions ! Farther to the right you 
behold three broad streets, perfectly straight, all meeting at 
the northern extremity of the city — the Babuino and the 
Ri-petta, with the Corso between them. The point at which 
they unite is the Porta del Popolo. The church close to it 
on the right, covers the spot where tradition reports Nero to 
have been buried. In that church Martin Luther performed 
mass, it is said, for the last time. The Corso seems to be 
continued beyond the gate. That is the Via Flaminia — 
the great post-road to Florence. 

The bridge by which it crosses the Tiber, a mile farther 
on, is the place where Constantine achieved his memorable 
victory over Masentius. Follow that road some six or seven 
miles beyond the bridge, and you are among the ruins of 
Veil — the most powerful city of the old Etruscan con- 
federacy j which maintained no less than thirteen successful 
wars with Rome ; but in the fourteenth, after a ten years' 
siege, fell by the stratagem of a foe that could not conquer 
her by force. On the precipitous height between it and the 
Tiber perished the six hundred Fabii — the Roman Spartans ; 
and some old arches to be seen there are thought to be the 
substructions of their castle. An abrupt hill, with a large 
building upon it, overlooking the Tiber, five miles from Veii, 
and the same distance from Rome, is the site of Fidene — 
destroyed by the Romans more than four centuries before 
the Christian era. Half-way between us and it, also over- 
looking the Tiber, is another hill on which once stood 
Antemne — " the city of many towers" — one of the first sub- 
dued by Romulus. On the plain between these two cities 
were fought many sanguinary battles between the Etruscans 



FIRST DAYS IN ROME. 121 

and the Romans; and it seems fit that Nero should have 
chosen to cut short his vicious and cruel life in that field of 
blood. How beautiful are the Sabine Mountains on our 
right ! how glorious their garniture of amethyst and gold ! 
and how quietly the little town of Tivoli reposes there in 
their protecting arms ! The lofty and picturesque range 
still farther to the south is called the Alban Hills. What a 
soft and mellow light rests upon the villages along their 
lower slopes ! and how like piles of crystal the snow glis- 
tens upon their summits ! That broad table-land between 
the two highest points is the place where Hannibal en- 
camped with his army. The road which you see straight 
before you is the Via Appia, excavated chiefly by the pre- 
sent pope, the first eleven miles of which is a street of 
tombs, now in utter ruin; and the line of dilapidated 
arches, nearly parallel with it, once sustained the aqueduct 
which supplied Korne with water from the distant moun- 
tains. 

Ladies and G-entlemen : This closes the present entertain- 
ment. I thank you for your attention, and hope you will 
continue to honor me with your patronage, which I shall do 
my best to merit. 



122 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER X. 

VETTURA TO TERRACINA. 

TROUBLESOME FACCHINO — ACROSS THE CAMPAGNA — ALBANO — LA RIC- 

CIA — VELLETRI — CISTERNA — CORA AND NORMA A BACE EOB BA- 

JOCCHI — PONTINE MARSHES — FORO APPIO FORWARD AGAIN — 

MONTE CIRCELLO — TERRACINA. 

Having witnessed the carnival, and many other things 
not worth recording, we made up a travelling party, and 
set forth for southern Italy. Our company consisted of 
four young Americans besides ourselves ; namely, Mr. Hall, 
Mr. Dey, Mr. "Wood, and Miss Emma Page, the daughter of 
a distinguished artist at Rome. Fellow-travellers more 
agreeable were not to be desired, and a more delightful trip 
of four weeks were scarcely possible. ■ Our vetturino too, a 
skilful and careful driver, was extremely kind and obliging, 
which contributed not a little to our enjoyment. We char- 
tered a vettura to Naples, which cost us about fourteen dol- 
lars apiece, including entertainment by the way. The 
distance is a hundred and forty -three miles, and the jour- 
ney occupied a little more than three days. The modern 
post-road follows the ancient Via Appia, with the exception 
of a few brief detours, through the entire route ; so that 
we were constantly travelling over classic ground, and 
passing some of the most interesting relics of antiquity. 

The only incident to mar our enjoyment occurred as we 
were leaving Rome, and that was but the shadow of a sum- 



VETTURA TO TERRACINA. 128 

mer cloud. While our driver was arranging on the top of 
the coach what little baggage we carried, one of those 
Italian nuisances that are constantly hanging about to force 
upon strangers assistance which they do not need, unsought 
and unsolicited, handed up a small trunk and a carpet-bag. 
For this very important service he demanded a fee, and was 
paid two pauls — equal to twenty cents — a liberal reward. 
As we drove off he mounted the box, and rode out as far as 
the gate. San Giovanni, for which he demanded another fee. 
His company being neither profitable nor desirable, we 
declined paying him any thing more. Therefore he "went 
into an Italian rage, called us all the ugly names at his com- 
mand, warned us to look out for him on the campagna, de- 
clared that two of the company would never return to 
Rome, and told the young lady, who, by -the way, is very 
beautiful both in features and complexion, that she was 
u molto brutto di colore" — of a very ugly color ! After sun- 
dry ineffectual exhortations and remonstrances, we referred 
the case to the police-officers at the gate, and went on our 
way rejoicing. 

The campagna from Rome to Albano — fourteen miles — is 
everywhere strewn with ruins. On our right, for ten miles 
at least, were, the shattered tombs and monuments of the 
Via Appia ; and on our left, the broken arches of the 
aqueducts — the grandest of all the Roman antiquities. 
Then we began to ascend the Alban Mountains, between 
perpetual vineyards and olive-groves. As we walked be- 
hind the vettura for the relief of the horses, we turned 
repeatedly to look back over one of the finest landscapes 
that ever blessed the eyes of man — the far-spreading cam- 
pagna, with Rome in the centre, and the mountains and the 
Mediterranean beyond. Near the gate of Albano, we 
passed the tomb of Pompey the Great, whose ashes were 
brought from Egypt, and deposited here by Cornelia. It is 



124 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

a half-ruined structure, of four stories, beautiful in its pro- 
portions, and originally encased with white marble. Pom- 
pey's Villa, and that of Clodius, were situated where 
Albano now stands; also the Villa of Doniitian, and his 
amphitheatre, the scene of the most revolting cruelties of 
the last and worst of the Caesars. Traces of these are still 
to be seen, and those of many other villas of the Roman 
patricians, with temples, and baths, and tombs. Albano is 
a finely-located town, with about six or seven thousand 
inhabitants — a favorite resort of the Roman nobility during 
the sickly summer season. The Via Appia passes straight 
through it, and is the principal street. Just beyond the 
town, on the right of the road, stands an old Etruscan 
sepulchre, formerly thought to be the tomb of the Horatii 
and Curatii, but lately ascertained to be that of Aruns, the 
son of Porsenna. Immediately after passing this, we crossed 
a deep ravine, upon a gigantic viaduct, connecting Albano 
and Lariccia. This work is one of the most remarkable of 
its kind — a thousand feet long, two hundred feet high, and 
consisting of three tiers of arches — : six in the lower tier, 
twelve in the central, and eighteen in the upper. The 
ravine below abounds in the most beautiful scenery, and the 
view to the west is one of absolute enchantment. Lariccia, 
a much smaller place than Albano, occupies the summit of 
the hill — the site of the citadel of Aricia, one of the con- 
federate cities of Latium. The ancient walls are still 
traceable, and the ruins of a temple are shown, supposed to 
be that of Diana. Beyond this we crossed two other lofty 
viaducts, of truly admirable construction — the work of Pio 
Nono. It must be remembered that this is the way to 
G-aeta; and travelling it on the top of a diligence in 1849 
seems to have suggested to His Holiness the expediency of 
sundry very expensive improvements; which have since 
been made, and may be found very comfortable in some 



VETTURA TO TERRACINA. 125 

future emergency. Our road here overlooked the crater of 
the Vallariccia, four miles in circumference, beyond which 
we saw Monte G-iove — the site of the ancient Corioli ; and 
Civita Lavinia — built of large rectangular blocks from the 
ruins of Lanuvium, which once occupied the same ground. 

Here we passed a huge black cross by the wayside, indi- 
cating the spot where a few months before the banditti had 
attacked the diligence. The driver saw them coming over 
the brow of a hill, and put his horses to their utmost speed. 
Several guns were fired, and a ball passed through the car- 
riage, grazing an Englishman's ear. Another wounded one 
of the leaders, which, after running a mile farther, dropped 
dead. The postilions cut him loose before the robbers had 
time to overtake them ; and all hands reached Albano safe, 
but in a terrible fright. 

Our first night was spent at Velletri, a city of twelve 
thousand inhabitants, situated on the descent of Monte 
Arternisio, at an elevation of perhaps a thousand feet. A 
waiter at our hotel, doing his best in French, told us that it 
contained sixteen million people, and was forty miles above 
the level of the sea ! Here flourished the Volscian Velitre 
— one of the ancient enemies of Rome. To rid herself of a 
troublesome neighbor, Rome demolished the city, and took 
its inhabitants into her own bosom. This was the reputed 
birthplace of Augustus, and Suetonius states that in his day 
the house was still shown in which the emperor first opened 
his eyes upon his future empire. Here were born Pope 
Julius the Second, Cardinal Borgia, the antiquary, and the 
learned prelate Latinus — one of the most eminent men of 
the thirteenth century, and said by his biographers to be 
the author of the beautiful hymn — "Dies irse, dies ilia." 
There is nothing very imposing in the architecture of the 
city, and the streets are narrow and filthy. Some hard 
fighting was done here during the Lombard invasion, evi- 



126 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

dences of which are still visible in the crumbling walls and 
towers. The hills on the north were the scene of the 
eventful victory of Charles the Third of Naples over the 
Austrians in 1744. The women of Velletri are thought to 
be handsome, and their costume is remarkably graceful and 
picturesque. This whole region is famous for its fruits, and 
I know not what could be more beautiful than the vineyards 
and olive-groves which clothe the surrounding hills. As we 
left the town, a little boy, who had conducted us the evening 
before to the albergo, but whom now we failed to recognize, 
ran some distance beside the vettura, expectant of a huono 
mano ; and when he saw that we were not going to give 
him any thing, he began to weep bitterly ; whereupon every 
one of us threw him a piece of money, which made the 
little fellow dance for joy. 

From Velletri the road descends gradually for several 
miles, till it enters the oak forest of Cisterna. This was 
formerly a notorious haunt of brigands, affording fine facili- 
ties for concealment and escape to the neighboring moun- 
tains. But the trees along the road have lately been cut 
down, and the way is well guarded by soldiers, posted at 
convenient distances. On emerging from the forest, we 
passed some massive ruins, apparently quite ancient ; per- 
haps the remains of Ulubrse, which was situated somewhere 
in this vicinity. Cisterna stands upon the last elevation, 
overlooking the Pontine Marshes — the supposed site of Tres 
Tabernae — "The Three Taverns" — where Saint Paul met 
his brethren as he " went toward Rome." The view from 
this eminence I shall never forget. The majestic mountains 
on the left, the remoter Mediterranean on the right, the vast 
expanse of the Pontine Marshes before us, and the isolated 
Monte Circello beyond, more than thirty miles distant," rising 
in solitary grandeur over the margin of the sea, with all 
their interesting associations, classical and scriptural, formed 



VETTTJRA TO TERRACINA. 127 

an imposing picture, which daguerreotyped its impression 
iniperishably upon my soul. 

Descending from Cisterna, on a pyramidal hill at the foot 
of the mountains, we saw the modern Cora, occupying the 
site of the ancient Cora — one of the oldest cities in Italy, 
and one of the thirty which united to form the Latin 
League, five hundred years before Christ. There are many 
ancient vestiges remaining; and a bridge which has stood 
entire for more than two thousand years is deemed one of 
the most remarkable monuments of its kind. A little far- 
ther on, and near our road, was the village of Norma, so 
called from the ancient Norbo, which stood upon a loftier 
ridge of rock beyond it. This was one of the first colonies 
of the Romans, established as a barrier to the warlike inhab- 
itants of the mountains. During the civil wars it fell into 
the hands of Lepidus, the General of Sylla; when the gar- 
rison, rather than surrender, put the inhabitants to the 
sword, set fire to the city, and then destroyed themselves. 
The remains of walls, gates, towers, and temples, consisting 
of immense blocks, are still identified; with numerous 
tombs, reservoirs, and subterranean aqueducts hewn in the 
solid rock. 

At the margin of the Pontine Marshes, we passed over 
the site of the ancient Trepontium — the Tripos of the mid- 
dle ages — now occupied by a solitary post-house, called Torre 
Tre Ponti. Half a mile beyond this, we crossed the Ninfa, 
by a Roman bridge, bearing on each parapet inscriptions 
recording its repair by Trajan. Here begins the Grand 
Canal of Augustus, which runs in a perfectly straight line 
through the whole length of the Marshes from north to 
south; and the road, which still follows the course of the 
Appian Way, lies along its eastern bank, lined on each side 
by a triple row of stately elms. For thirty miles there is no 
variation in the scenery, and the dreary desolation of the 



128 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

plain defies all description. It is a vast waste, bounded on 
the west by the sea, and on the east by the Volseian Moun- 
tains, whose rugged steeps display not a particle of verdure. 
The whole extent seems to be untilled and untenanted, ex- 
cept by flocks of wild-fowl and grazing herds of buffalo; 
and the thin and sallow denizens of the dubious straw huts 
along the margin, and the occupants of the post-stations, 
which occur at regular distances upon the road, betoken too 
evidently the deadly dominion of the malaria. How differ- 
ent the scene when Horace glided along this same canal on 
his journey to Brundusium, or when the weary-footed 
"prisoner of Jesus Christ" walked Romeward over this 
same Appian Way ! Once, according to Livy, the Volseian 
Plain was the" chief source of supply to the luxurious Mis- 
tress of the World ; and according to Pliny, no less than 
twenty-three cities smiled along its border, or looked proudly 
down from the adjacent hills. 

The first attempt to drain this vast swamp is supposed to 
have been made by Appius Claudius, when he constructed 
the Appian Way. This, however, is uncertain ; and if he 
undertook the work, it was, probably, but imperfectly done. 
But we are assured that this object was effected, in part at 
least, a hundred and thirty years later, by the Consul Corne- 
lius Cethegus. Julius Caesar again formed the design of 
accomplishing the arduous task ; but we have no record of 
his carrying the purpose into effect. Augustus seems to 
have executed the plan, and to him is attributed the con- 
struction of the Grand Canal. Trajan and Nerva each 
reopened and cleared the old water-courses, and perhaps 
added others to those which before existed. The last work 
of this kind, before the downfall of the Roman Empire, was 
conducted by Cecilius Decius, under the reign of Theodoric 
the G-oth. Boniface the Eighth, in the thirteenth century, did 
something of the same sort ; and Martin the Fifth, and Sixtus 



VETTURA TO TERRACINA. 129 

the Fifth, both followed the example. But it was Pius the 
Sixth who completely restored the Canal of Augustus, and 
constructed the modern road. The latter is kept in fine con- 
dition by the present Pope, for there is no telling how soon 
he may want to travel it again ! It is beautifully macadam- 
ized ; but in many places the large polygonal stones of the 
old Appian pavement are still seen. 

About three miles beyond Torre Tre Ponti, we paused for 
refreshment at the Foro Appio — the ancient Appii Forum, 
where Horace embarked in the evening on the Grand Canal, 
and where a greater than Horace met his Christian friends 
as he went toward Rome. There is something to me very 
affecting in the record of this incident in the twenty-eighth 
chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. Appii Forum is about 
forty-six miles from Rome. The apostle is on his way to 
that city to give account of himself to the Emperor. Here 
is a little band of brethren, once pagans, but recently won 
to the love of Jesus. Among them, perhaps, are a few 
devout Jews. They have heard of his landing at Puteoli, 
and have come to cheer him on his way. With such affec- 
tion from brethren whom he had never seen, no wonder "he 
thanked God and took courage." I stood upon the little 
balcony of the humble osteria that now marks the place — 
perhaps the very ground whereon the parties paused — and 
gazed along the way, till I imagined I saw that blessed pris- 
oner approaching from the south, weary with his journey, a 
chain upon his left wrist, a staff in his right hand, and the 
soldiers riding on either side ; while from the opposite direc- 
tion came a score of Christian converts to welcome and com- 
fort the noblest man that ever wore a chain. I saw them 
quickening their pace to meet him, heard the tender greet- 
ing, witnessed the warm embrace, and the tears of love and 
joy that rolled down every cheek; while the stern soldiers 
looked on in amazement, and the centurion exclaimed, " See 
6* 



130 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

how these Christians love one another V I beheld them 
journeying on together till they reached Tres Tabernae, 
where they are met by another party of the brethren, and a 
similar scene is enacted. Then I descended into the road, 
and sauntered along the canal, and gathered the wild flowers 
that grew upon its margin, and wept for joy, to think that I 
was actually treading the ground consecrated by one of the 
most touching incidents in the history of original Chris- 
tianity. Afterward we sat down to our luncheon, where, per- 
haps, St. Paul had eaten with his friends; and I also " thanked 
Grod and took courage." 

Dear reader, did you ever think how much you owe to 
that journey of Saint Paul ? He remained at Rome at 
least two full years, dwelling in his own hired house, and 
preaching the gospel freely to all who came to hear him. 
During this time many were converted to Christianity. 
Some of his converts were of " Caesar's household. " One of 
them is said to have been a Welsh princess, and others were 
Britons, then sojourning in Rome. These carried Christian- 
ity home with them • and lo ! the tree whose fruitful 
branches now shelter and refresh the nations ! 

But hark ! it is the call of our vetturino : "Avante, Sig- 
nore! Monte, monte, Signorina!" In three twinklings of 
an eye we are seated, and rattling away toward Terracina. 
And here is Sezza, occupying a conspicuous position upon a 
mountain — the side of the ancient Setia, the native town of 
Cuius Valerius Flaccus, the author of the Argonauticon ; 
and Ptperno, the ancient Privernum, the birthplace of Ca- 
millas, and famous for its long struggles with Rome; and 
the Cistercian Monastery of Fossa Nuova, where Thomas 
Aquinas died, on his way to the Council of Lyons, in the' 
thirteenth century; and the place where, in the days of 
Horace, stood the Temple of Feronia, with its grove and 
fountain, nothing of which now remains but a spring, shaded 



VET TUB, A TO TERRACINA. 131 

by three stunted trees. Here we overtook a man riding upon 
a donkey, while a woman walked by bis side, witb a cbild in 
her arms, and a heavy burden on her back ; and when we 
asked him why he did not let her ride, or relieve her of part 
of her load, he replied, " 0, she is my wife ! " To half-a- 
dozen little girls, who ran after the carriage, we threw a 
number of small coins; but one of them, failing to secure 
any in the scramble, pursued us with most imploring cries, 
in the name of " Maria Santissima;" and when she had 
run about three miles, and we feared she would kill herself, 
we threw her a mezzo paoh, and she returned to her com- 
panions molto conten to. 

What a grand object was Monte Circello, lying there at our 
right, like a great sea-monster sunning himself upon the 
shore ! This is the ancient Promontorium Circeum — a per- 
pendicular mass of limestone, several thousand feet high, 
five or six miles long, and almost surrounded by the sea, 
situated ten miles west of Tcrracina, at the southern extrem- 
ity of the Pontine Marshes. There are traces of masonry 
upon the summit, supposed to be the remains of a Temple of 
the Sun — perhaps really of an ancient citadel. There are 
other ruins upon the western and southern sides of the prom- 
ontory, one or the other of which must have been the location 
of the city of Circeii : the scene of the exile of Lepidus, a 
favorite resort of Cicero and Atticus, and afterward of Tibe- 
rius and Douiitian. Among the Roman epicures it was famous 
for its oysters; and those who were fond of the sport came 
hither to hunt the wild boar. This animal still abounds in 
the Pontine Marshes, and I have once dined at a Roman 
trattoria upon its meat. Once, I say; and the first time will 
be the last, so long as I am able to obtain any other sort of 
food, except blood-puddings and eels. 

Terracina was our encampment for the second night. This 
is the frontier town of the papal dominion, and has about 



132 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

five thousand inhabitants. It is very picturesquely situated, 
at the southern extremity of the Pontine Marshes, where 
the Volscian Mountains project into the sea. As we entered 
the city, the palm-trees along the hillside, with the gigantic 
cactus, and the yellow orange and lemon groves, told us that 
we were approaching a more genial clime. Our hotel was 
close under the cliff, at the very point of the promontory. 
Across the way, a detached mass of rock shot up several 
hundred feet like a tower. It is said to have been formerly 
inhabited by a hermit, and his cell is still seen about half-way 
up its side. But how he reached it without the wings of an 
eagle, it is difficult to imagine. We ascended the mountain, 
twelve or fifteen hundred feet; passing some remains of 
Pelasgic walls, and several ruined reservoirs, which we found 
tenanted by kids. Higher up, and almost inaccessible, are 
the broken arches of Theodoric's Palace, the lower story of 
which is almost entire. We reached it with great difficulty; 
but the toil was well rewarded. The view from the top is 
one of enchanting beauty; including the Pontine Marshes, 
with the promontory of Monte ffircello; the Mediterranean, 
with Ischia, and the Ponzan Islands; Lago di Pondi, sleep- 
ing calmly in the embrace of the mountains ; G-aeta, and 
many other towns along the coast; and, last of all, Vesuvius, 
distinctly visible at the distance of eighty miles. As we 
descended, the sun went down over the distant sea, kindling 
the waters into flame, and shedding a gorgeous glory on the 
rocky summits around us. 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 133 



CHAPTER XI. 

WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 

A WILD STORY OF THE ALPS — A TENDER STORY OF MOUNT ANXTJR. 

I know not whether our inn was the one immortalized by 
Washington Irving in his "Tales of a Traveller/' where he 
sat all night telling stories with his friends. It was sufficient 
for us that it was in the same Terracina ; and that a portion 
of the same spirit fell upon our party. Having refreshed 
ourselves with a sumptuous repast, we gathered around the 
fire in our common sitting-room, and Mr. H. began as follows : 

"You must know, gentlemen and ladies, that I have been 
some time travelling in Europe, and am a much older man 
than I seem to be. Once upon a time — I will not say how 
long ago, for that would spoil the story — in company with a 
clever English tourist, I was on my way from Lintz to Was- 
serburg, and approaching the Bavarian frontier. The road 
was rough and hilly, and the evening twilight overtook us 
while we were yet many miles short of our destination for 
the night. Our horses were jaded, and one of them had 
lost a shoe, which rendered our progress still more tardy and 
difficult. 

"Reaching a small and ugly-looking inn upon the margin 
of an extensive mountain forest, our driver informed us that 
it was impracticable to proceed any farther that night, and 



134 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

that it would be unsafe to make the attempt. We remon- 
strated, reminded him of his engagement, urged the import- 
ance to us of its fulfilment, and tried by various arguments 
to stimulate his courage. Finding all unavailing, we pro- 
posed, by way of compromise, to stop an hour and a half, 
that he might feed his horses, and replace the lost shoe, and 
then go on by moonlight. To this, after much parleying, he 
reluctantly consented. 

"Entering the inn, we saw eight or ten rough-looking fel- 
lows sitting around a large fire, and seated ourselves among 
them. It was plain to me that my companion did not like 
their appearance; and, for my own part, I was not altogether 
void of suspicion. The matter looked still worse when we 
ascertained that there was no female in the house. Resolv- 
ing, however, to make the best of it, we called for supper," 
which was soon -ready for us in an adjoining room. As soon 
as we had an opportunity, we expressed to each other our 
apprehensions. My friend proposed that we should call in 
the landlord, and have a friendly chat with him : with a view 
to ascertaining, if possible, something of his character. He 
immediately accepted our invitation, and sat down to drink 
wine with us; while we scrutinized his features, weighed 
every word he uttered, and carefully noted every tone and 
gesture. "We were soon satisfied; we could not possibly be 
mistaken : his physiognomy, his conversation, his manner, 
proclaimed him one of the worst of his kind. 

l( We asked him what meant the shooting we had heard as 
we approached his house. Perhaps, he said, some of the 
boys were hunting ; or it may have been some of his men 
trying their hands at a mark ; one would very often hear 
shooting in the forest ; occasionally he did something at- it 
himself; and he thought he might have occasion to practice 
a little to-night. His manner, more than his words, during 
these remarks, convinced us that we had not judged him 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 135 

too severely. Ho endeavored to persuade us to remain till 
morning; but we told him we must, if possible, reach 
Wasserburg that night. When we arose to depart he said : 
' Well, gentlemen, if you will go, I wish you a pleasant 
journey, though I think I shall see you again before you 
reach Wasserburg/ These words grated on our ears rather 
harshly; but we smiled as naturally as we could, said we 
should be happy to have his company, and with affected 
cordiality bade him good evening. 

" Less than half an English mile from his door we met a 
carriage containing six men, who appeared to be officers of 
the Austrian army. Learning, upon inquiry, that they in- 
tended to spend the night at the inn, we resolved on remain- 
ing with them. We informed them at once of our 
suspicions, and it was soon agreed what policy we had 
better pursue. So turning about, we drove back, and told 
the landlord, that having unexpectedly met with this party 
of friends, we had concluded to stay till morning, and have 
a jolly time together. At our request he gave us a large 
upper room. We called for much wine, drank but little, 
yet made a great deal of noise. We told stories, laughed 
loudly, sang vociferously, and counterfeited drunkenness to 
perfection. Some time after midnight we gradually grew 
quiet, extinguished our candles, and lay down, but not to 
sleep, though some of the party snored. Through a crack 
in the floor we could see that the lights were still burning 
below, that the men we first met around the fire were all 
there, and that others had been added to the number, 
though there was not a sound to be heard. Soon there were 
cautious footsteps on the stairway, and soft whisperings at 
the door. Then all was quiet again. An hour elapsed, and 
the footsteps and whisperings were repeated; and lights 
were seen moving to and fro in the passage. JSTow one of 
our party, as if awakened from sleep, began talking to his 



136 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

bedfellow; whereupon the sounds without ceased, the lights 
were suddenly darkened, and we remained undisturbed till 
morning. 

". Before we parted, our new friends informed us that they 
were not what we had supposed, but police-officers; that 
several robberies and murders had lately taken place in the 
forest ; that this inn had been suspected as the head-quar- 
ters of a desperate gang; and that they were now here for 
the purpose of ascertaining, if possible, by observation, the 
true character of the landlord and his house. They fur- 
thermore requested us, on our arrival at Wasserburg, to go 
immediately to the police-office, relate all that we had wit- 
nessed, and request that more officers should be sent to their 
assistance. My friend gave them his address, and obtained 
the promise of a letter in case any thing important should" 
transpire. About six weeks afterward a letter reached him 
in Paris, informing him that a secret watch had been set 
upon that inn, that a very large gang of robbers and murderers 
had been arrested, that the master of the . house himself 
proved to be the captain of the band, and was executed with 
eleven others, while several more were awaiting their trial in 
prison. 

" Ladies and gentlemen, my story is no fiction, but a sim- 
ple narrative of facts as they occurred." 

Mr. H. having ended, Mrs. C, who occupied the next 
seat in the circle, took up her parable and said : 

" Theodoric the Goth had supplanted the unworthy Em- 
peror of Rome, and all northern Italy had submitted to his 
sway ; but as he proceeded farther south he was destined to 
meet resistance from the haughty lords whose castles crowned 
the heights around Terracina. 

"At the point which we passed this afternoon, where the 
Volscian Mountains crowd down upon the sea, until only a 
narrow passage is left, a desperate battle took place ; and 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 187 

the hill-sides now glowing with pomegranate, and orange, 
and lemon, were then reddened by the blood of warriors. 
Bravely did the Italians defend the pass ; but the arms of 
Theodoric were triumphant. Happiness seldom comes 
unalloyed, and in the moment of victory the conqueror 
found himself deprived of a friend — a companion in arms, 
who had fought with him side by side from his youth. 
Kneeling, he received the last sigh of Rudolph, and pro- 
mised to become the father to his little girl, Elesif, now 
truly orphaned, as she had lost her mother at her birth. 

" The promise so solemnly made by Theodoric he deter- 
mined to fulfil, and by his kindness to the child to atone for 
any injustice that he might ever have done the father; for 
who of us, alas ! is it that can see the heart of a friend 
grow chill in death, and say, ( I have never planted in that 
heart a thorn V 

" The advantages of Terracina as a naval station had 
made it a place of importance; and here upon the high 
mountain, overlooking the town, the G-othic lawgiver deter- 
mined to build him a palace resembling that of Nero, at 
Rome. A quarry was opened in the side of the mountain, 
and in the course of time a palace arose, whose present 
ruins attest its former magnificence. When Theodoric 
came to take possession of this mansion, there was in his 
court a young girl of some fifteen summers, whose curls of 
paly gold shaded a face of exquisite fairness. Her cheek 
was colored with the softest rose-tint ; and in the depths of 
her blue eye there was a spirit of meditation and pensive- 
ness. This was Elesif. She was not sorry to have come to 
Terracina, for her father lay buried near ; and this was a 
comfort, though his tongue could no more bless her, nor his 
eye beam with affection upon her. Hours she spent in 
gathering wild flowers from the mountains to deck his grave ; 
then seating herself beside it, she pursued her work in 



138 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

silence, or in this beautiful solitude surrounded herself with 
pleasant memories of the departed, and wove them into 
dreams in the midst of the evening sunshine. 

" But the mornings of Elesif were more cheerfully em- 
ployed. As she stood upon the terrace of the castle, a smile 
stole over her face; while she beheld upon one side the Pon- 
tine Marshes, almost without habitation, yet glittering with 
fields of grain ; and at their southern extremity the pro- 
montory of Circe, seeming an inaccessible island, a fit abode 
for the ancient enchantress. Upon the other hand, far over 
the waves, were groups of islands, and in the remoter dis- 
tance light wreaths of smoke floated from Vesuvius. • 

" Then the young girl hastened down the mountain, 
down through the olive-grove, crushing with her bounding 
step the odor from the wild thyme, and scarcely pausing to 
pluck a flower until she had reached a high and isolated 
mass of rock near the sea. This is the rock which we all 
admired so much this evening, as forming so remarkable a 
feature in the picturesque scene. Midway up was exca- 
vated a cell, reached only by a ladder, and inhabited by one 
weary of the world. He was renowned for his learning and 
reverenced for his piety. The deep lines that sorrow and 
disappointment had left upon his face were softened by a 
smile of resignation, as one has seen a rugged landscape 
made beautiful by the breath of spring. He had met 
Elesif in her rambles upon the mountains ; and being inter- 
ested in her, he became, more by accident than design, her 
teacher. Every day she went to his cell, and listened, well 
pleased, to the instructions he gave, or to the wonderful 
legends he related. 

" The court of Theodoric left for Yerona, but Elesif re- 
mained behind with the Lady Julia, who had care of her. 
Pleasantly did the years glide away. Her cheek grew 
warmer and her eye brighter beneath a southern sun. 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 139 

"One day she had rambled far to gather flowers for her 
father's grave. Her lap was quite full, and she was about 
to return, when she espied a bunch of the most lovely 
1 forget-me-nots' growing on the verge of a crag that over- 
hung the sea. She thought she might reach it, and clam- 
bered up after it, but found the task more difficult than she 
had supposed. At length, however, she gained a point 
upon which she knelt; and reaching forward, grasped the 
flowers. Just then the treacherous soil gave way, and she 
was precipitated into the sea. She uttered a single wild 
shriek of alarm, and then gave herself up to death. With 
the ' forget-me-nots' still clutched in her hand, she folded 
her arms upon her breast. Scenes of her former life floated 
over her brain, like summer-clouds driven by the wind. 
Then she felt herself seized by a strong arm — and she knew 
no more. 

" Consciousness came with a feeling of confusion, as if she 
were awaking from chaos. All things swam before her, 
mingled in inextricable perplexity; and among other things 
was a vision" of large brown eyes, and a pale face shadowed 
by dark hair, bending over her. At the same time she heard 
a voice, as in a dream, uttering most fervently the words, 
' Thank God I' . 

"In a few moments more she had recollected herself; and 
opening her eyes the second time, she saw again the same 
pale face, the same dark hair and eyes, but more distinctly. 
A young man, whom she had never seen before, knelt beside 
her, alternately chafing her hands and wringing the water 
from her fair curls. 

" She murmured thanks to him, and said feebly : ' I 
think now I can walk home ;' but in making the attempt to 
rise, she fell back fainting ; and the young man, without fur- 
ther ado, took her in his arms, and bore her as far as the cell 
of the hermit. Here he met some of the retainers of the 



140 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

castle, to whom he resigned his charge. She was placed 
upon a litter, and borne to the presence of the surprised and 
terrified Lady Julia. For some weeks after this she was so 
much troubled with a cough that she was not permitted to 
leave the castle. During this time the hermit daily toiled 
up the steep ascent to learn news of her welfare, and to take 
her fresh flowers. On these occasions he was unaccom- 
panied, but a figure might be seen walking with impatient 
steps along the strand, awaiting his return. No sooner did 
the old man appear coming down the mountain, than this 
figure was seen rapidly ascending the mountain to meet him. 
When they met, his first question always was : c How is 
she V his second : l Did you give her the flowers V And 
then, as if to justify his interest, he would say : i Poor 
thing, she seems so lonely here !' He would then assist the 
hermit down the hill, and being seated upon the shore, 
where the waves chased each other to their feet, the young 
man would take from his bosom a book or manuscript, which 
they would con together. In these latter days, however, the 
student had grown absent. After reading a passage, he 
would often let the book fall beside him, and sit looking at the 
blue sea with half-closed eyes, his face assuming the expres- 
sion of one lost in a delicious revery. The hermit usually 
sighed softly as he thus beheld him, and awaited in silence un- 
til he would resume his book. But one day he said to him : 

" ' Of what do you dream, my son V 

" ' Dream V said the young man, starting from his revery, 
1 0, nothing ! that is, nothing of any moment. A mere idle 
train of thought, suggested, perhaps, by the book.' 

" ' You are not wont, my son, to indulge in idle thought/ 
said the hermit; 'your life has been one of study, that 
your name, made glorious by your ancestors, might not be 
dishonored in you.' 

" l Yes/ said the young man, musingly, ' it has been a 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 141 

life of study ; but, after all, what can I accomplish ? The 
power of our family broken, our property confiscated, our 
name itself falling into oblivion, nothing remains to me but 
the old tower, in which I seem shut out from glory or hope. 
And whatever I may achieve, who is to be made the gladder 
by it ? What heart would rejoice V 

u ' You may so use your knowledge/ replied the hermit, 
1 that many lives may be made gladder, and many hearts 
rejoice. The rose does not hoard her fragrance, but lavishes 
it, with her life, upon the air; the bee, with patient skill, 
extracts the sweets destined for others ; the stars shine un- 
ceasingly, but not for themselves — their trembling rays 
guide the mariner to his home; and He who was himself 
"a man of sorrows/' brought joy to every heart.' 

"'Yes, Father, I know that, I know that/ rejoined the 
young man, rather impatiently; 'but the human heart seeks 
sympathy; it yearns for some other heart to rejoice in its 
success ; and this longing has been implanted in us by G-od 
himself — is it not so ?' 

" ' Yes, my child, yes/ answered the hermit, with a soft 
sigh ; < but leif us be careful that we ask not sympathy where 
it would be dangerous for it to be given.' 

" The young, man understood the allusion, and rejoined, 
with a sad smile : 

" ' Fear not ; I ask nothing ; I hope nothing.' 

"After a few moments' silence the book was resumed, but 
it had lost its charm : 

' In its leaves that day they read no more.' 

" The student arose and slowly wended his way to a soli- 
tary and half-ruined tower that stood upon a neighboring 
mountain. As he walked he muttered to himself: 'Fool, 
fool that I am ! Why have I permitted that bright creature 
to mingle with my dark dreams ? What can I ever be to 



142 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

her, or she to me ? No, I will think of her no more ! I 
will devote myself with fresh ardor to my studies. I may 
some day achieve a name that even she will deign to pause 
and listen when she hears it mentioned — -there, again ! she 
is ever the end of my thought ! I must conquer myself.' 
And with this he strode rapidly forward, as if he intended 
to get out of sight of himself. 

" That was a day of struggle, as the bird struggles with 
the tempest, beating the air with its wings without ever ris- 
ing. Book after book was taken up, manuscript after man- 
uscript ; but the sentences lost themselves in reveries, and a 
cloud of golden curls quite obscured the sense. 

" The next morning he started once more to the cell of 
the hermit with a fresh bouquet, saying to himself : 'At least 
it can do no harm to send her the flowers while she is sick ; 
she receives them as the gifts only of Father Paolo/ But as 
he approached the cell he saw that bright form, which had 
become so inextricably intermingled with all his thoughts, 
coming down the mountain path. In the distance he 
watched her while she moved as if with invisible wings. 
He was not sufficiently near to observe the egression of her 
face, but every motion had the joyousness of an uncaged 
bird. Once her hair became entangled in an olive branch, 
and she stopped to disentangle it; then she plucked a spray 
of pomegranate ; and then again she moved gayly forward. 
The young man stood as in a trance, and she passed as a 
vision before him. He saw the hermit go to meet her, and 
then he turned to wander alone upon the mountain. 

" The hermit arranged Elesif a comfortable seat upon the 
shore, and there they sat and conversed rather than studied. 
Father Paolo expressed his gratitude for her preservation. 

11 ' I also/ she rejoined, ' am very thankful that I was 
saved ; for although I trust I shall not fear to die when it is 
God's will, yet one shrinks from a sudden and violent end. 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 143 

But I must know my earthly deliverer — can you tell me 
aught of hiin, Father ?" 

" ' He is a son/ replied the hermit, ' of one of those 
Italian nobles who made a stand against Theodoric when he 
came to Terracina. His father was wounded in battle, and 
borne off by his followers to his own castle. Of the wound, 
though severe, he might have recovered ; but his chagrin at 
the defeat of his countrymen was so great that it produced a 
fever of which he died. That, you know, was many years 
ago. Since then Cecilio has resided with a single domestic 
in that solitary tower which you see to the left of the palace, 
upon that high point above the spot where the Emperor 
Galba was born. There he resides, and has but little inter- 
est in any thing save his studies.' 

"'How kind it was in him to rescue me!' said Elesif; 
1 how noble !' 

" The hermit did not answer, for he knew how dangerous 
this awakened interest might become: 

"Weeks passed away without Elesif having again seen 
Cecilio ; but as she stood one day at the portal of the palace, 
receiving a dispatch sent her from Theodoric by the young 
knight Atillio, she descried him through the trees, and 
exclaimed, ' 0, that is he !' 

" f Is who ?' said Atillio, who had learned before this to 
appreciate the charms of the maiden. 

" ' The stranger,' she answered, l who saved me when I 
fell into the sea.' 

" 'A very interesting personage, no doubt/ said Atillio, 
with a slight sneer. 

" 'At least his saving me was an interesting fact to 
myself/ answered Elesif. 

" ' Yes, and to others/ said the knight, with earnestness. 

"A few days after this, when Elesif visited the grave of 



144 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

her father, she found some of the flowers she had planted 
withering. Remembering a spring that burst from the 
mountain-side not far distant, she ran to it to procure water 
for the flowers. As she turned abruptly around a projection 
of rock which concealed the spring, she found herself stand- 
ing in the presence of her deliverer, who sat beside the 
gurgling water, deeply absorbed in a manuscript. He looked 
up as he heard her approach, and the faces of both were suf- 
fused with a glow of crimson. 

11 She, however, instantly advanced, and holding out her 
hand to him, said : ' I am most happy to have this oppor- 
tunity of thanking you for having saved my life.' She 
would have said more, but, overcome by his earnest gaze, she 
paused, and her face was once more covered with blushes. 

" He pressed his lip tremblingly upon her proffered hand, 
and said, ' Speak no more of it, lady ; it was nothing.' 

ue Nothing for you, perhaps,' she rejoined, 'but an act 
that can never be forgotten by me.' After a pause, she 
added : i I come to get water for my flowers. I suppose this 
cup which I have made of leaves will hold sufficient.' 

" ' Hold, lady,' said Cecilio, f I think I can do better;' and 
taking a cup from his pocket, he filled it with water ; ' per- 
mit me,' he continued, ' to carry it for you.' 

" Elesif was confused ; she knew not whether to refuse or 
to accede to his proposition. In the meantime, he walked 
beside her, and when they had reached the tomb, he was about 
to pour the water on the flowers, when she said hastily : 

" 'No, no, that I must do myself!' 

" He relinquished the cup to her, and said : 

" ' I can understand your feelings ; I, too, have lost a 
father, and I may say on the same mournful occasion.' 

" ' Then we are alike the children of misfortune,' said 
Elesif; 'the battle-field is dreadful! Yes,' she resumed, 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 145 

after a pause, 'Father Paolo had told rue something of your 
history ; and that you sometimes study with hini, though I 
never see you there.' 

" Cecilio did not reply. He spoke of other matters — 
of the beautiful country, the soft skies and balmy air of 
Italy. 

" ' I suppose, however/ said he, ' that you would be will- 
ing to exchange all these for your northern home again.' 

"'0 no/ she answered, 'no; I love my northern home 
because I was born there, but I scarcely know it. Here is 
my father's grave, and here would I have my home/ 

" There was something not unpleasant in these words to 
the young man's ear. 

" They continued to talk and stroll along the shore, un- 
mindful of the time, until the sun had sunk behind the 
horizon, and Elesif, surprised to see the moonbeams trembling 
on the water, said : 

" ' I must hasten home ; the Lady Julia will be anxious.' 

" They parted, and she hurried to the palace, her heart 
filled with soft music, and enveloped in the rosy light that 
comes with the morning of love. 

" The next day, whether it was by accident I cannot tell, 
but their lessons at the hermit's clashed, for she had not 
finished hers before he arrived. 

"Cupid often approaches warily; but once his rosy fetters 
about the limbs, he is the veriest tyrant. Every day Cecilio 
and Elesif met, at the cell of the hermit, or on the mountain, 
or by the spring, or by the shore. No situation could have 
been more favorable to love. Separated as each seemed from 
the world, their souls drew nearer to each other for sympathy. 

" The hermit saw their growing passion with uneasiness. 
In secret he remonstrated with Cecilio, and tried once more 
to arouse his interest in his studies; but all the ardent 
nature of the Italian had been stirred, and he answered : 
7 



146 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

" ' Father, I would not give one smile of hers for all the 
lore that was ever learned from books/ 

e [ ' But ; my son/ said the hermit, ' what will Theodoric, 
what will the stern Goth say when he comes V 

" 'I know not; I care not; he cannot prevent my loving 
her, and that is happiness/ 

" ' But, my son, is there no happiness but your own to be 
consulted ? The affections of this young creature being 
entangled, what will be her fate if Theodoric separate you V 

" 'Alas, Father, I know not ; our best affections make us 
selfish. I thought only of myself, and I may bring sorrow 
to that innocent heart, for which I would gladly sacrifice my 
life. But perhaps she loves me not ; I will know ; and if 
her heart is still fetterless, I will leave it free as the young 
bird; I will make no attempt to ensnare it. I will not 
darken her bright path by my presence ; I will once more 
bury myself among my books in my own lonely home.' 

" The conversation ceased, for the hermit was troubled, 
and knew not what to say. 

"... The sun was sinking toward the west. The 
roselight of evening was tinging the wave and the wood, 
while Cecilio and Elesif wandered along the shore. A jut- 
ting crag shut out the view of the palace and of the her- 
mit's cell. Before them was the sea, and behind them the 
flowery sides of the mountains. It seemed a little world 
shut in, fit for innocent and peaceful hearts. 

" Cecilio felt his pulse beat quicker, as he said to Elesif: 
' When will Theodoric with his court return V 

" ' In twenty days/ she replied, ' they are expected/ 

" 'And then your present dull life will be exchanged for 
one of gayety and happiness/ 

" ' Happiness/ said Elesif, ' does not always go hand in 
hand with gayety — I prefer quiet/ 

''But/ continued Cecilio, 'you will then be surrounded 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 147 

by many admiring knights and noble gentlemen ; and then 
perhaps your quiet life, and he whose happiness it has been 
to share it, will alike be forgotten.' 

" She looked up into his face with aft earnest and half- 
reproachful glance. 

"'Do you suppose/ she exclaimed, 'that I could be so 
unworthy, so heartless as to forget him who saved my life ?' 

" ' I claim no gratitude/ he said, with impetuosity ; ' I 
deserve none, as I knew not at the time whom I had saved. 
Nay, lady, if that is the only remembrancer of me, forget me 
altogether !' 

"Alternately the blood rushed to the brow of Elesif, and 
then left it pale as death; the tears were in her eyes as she 
said, in a low and trembling voice : 

" ' I shall not forget you.' 

" i Elesif/ he said, and he breathed the words in a fervent 
whisper, as he gently placed his arm around her, ' do you 
love me V 

" The heart of the young girl fluttered, tbe blood glowed 
in every part of her neck that was visible through her falling 
curls, as she bent her head. A moment she was silent, then 
raising her face, the tear-drops glittering on her burning 
cheek, her eyes looking up trustingly to his, she answered 
earnestly : 'As my own life.' 

" ' G-od bless you, Elesif, bless you for those words !' said 
the young man, and lifting her curls as if with reverence, he 
pressed them to his lips. 

" No other word was spoken. They wandered homeward 
hand in hand, enjoying that one moment of happiness, which 
in itself 

'Is a life ere it closes, 
A sole drop of fragrance from thousands of roses.' 

" Swift and bright-winged were the hours of the twenty 
days until Theodoric's arrival. The last evening had come, 



148 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and all the palace was in preparation. Weary at length of 
the bustle, Elesif had stolen forth, and was sitting alone 
beside the spring that ran near her father's grave. Her 
hands slightly clasped had fallen upon her lap, and her eyes 
were fixed upon the great waves, as they rushed with their 
white manes to the shore, and she murmured to herself: 
' So do our hopes rush forward but to be broken and scat- 
tered/ She was thinking of the morrow, and her heart had 
grown sad. She felt that the life of love and joy which she 
had led for months must now be interrupted ; that her free- 
dom, which had been almost unbounded during the absence 
of the court, must be curtailed; that she could no longer 
hasten daily with joyous steps to meet her lover, or strolling 
by his side exchange with him vows of tender and innocent 
love. Their life had been like the life in Eden, but already 
the gate seemed opening for their departure. In truth, the 
heart of Elesif was sad. Suddenly she was startled by feel- 
ing something fall lightly upon her head — it was a wreath 
of ' forget-me-nots.' Looking up, she saw the dark, laughing 
eyes of her lover. He, too, knew that this was the last 
evening; but the human heart is" wayward, and often laughs 
at the control of circumstance, as if in anticipation of that 
time when it shall be beyond the reach of the changes of earth. 
" ( What,' he said, ' my lady-bird, have I found you at 
last ? I was beginning to fear that the preparations for 
Theodoric had detained you, and that I should be disap- 
pointed in meeting you. See, I have woven you a garland 
of forget-me-nots, to remind you of our first meeting, when 
I drew you like another Venus from the sea, and your hand 
still grasped the flowers for which you had perilled your 
life.' By this time he had reached her side, and noticed 
the slight cloud of sorrow which his words had failed 
entirely to dissipate. Taking her hand, he said, ' But you 
are sad, Elesif; has any thing disturbed you V 



■WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 149 

" ' Only the recollection that this is the last evening/ 
she replied. 

" ' Too true/ he said ; ( I can no more watch day after 
day for your footsteps, nor look for that smile which has 
been to me life — -more, more than life, dear Elesif. All 
that riches, fame, and power are to other men, you have 
become to me. To live without you now were impossible. 
Alas ! what do I say ? What right have I to aspire to your 
hand ? It has been wrong and selfish in me to strive to en- 
gage, your affections, and yet what human heart could resist 
the temptation ? And now Theodoric comes perhaps to 
tear you from me, to give you to another ' 

" 'Do not speak of it,' she said; 'I can never be an- 
other's ; and whatever may be our future, you, Cecilio, will 
never doubt that my heart is true to you even unto death V 

u ' Never! never!' he exclaimed; and with mutual vows 
they parted. 

" The next day Theodoric arrived, and was delighted to 
see the growing loveliness of his adopted daughter. He 
designed to bestow her hand upon Atillio, who, it will 
be remembered, has been mentioned in these memoirs 
before. 

" The meetings of Elesif and the young Italian had not 
been unobserved, and that evening the story of their love 
was whispered into the ear of the Groth. His brow slightly 
darkened, but he replied : 'A passing fancy, which will soon 
be forgotten.' 

" The next morning he sent for Elesif, and informed her 
of the brilliant fate to which he had destined her in uniting 
her with Atillio. She stood before him with downcast eyes, 
and face as pale as the marble statues that adorned the 
room. A shade of vexation passed across the face of Theo- 
doric, as he exclaimed : 

" ' What, girl ! hast thou no thanks for this care that I 



150 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

have taken of thy future, for the brilliant destiny that I 
have provided thee ? There are few maidens that would not 
be proud to wed Atillio/ 

" 'Doubtless/ she answered, with trembling lips, 'it 
would be for many an enviable station, and any woman 
might be proud of the homage of his heart; but — I can- 
not marry him. 7 

" ' Thou canst not V replied Theodoric, in a rage ; ' we 
shall see ! G-o to thy room, thou perverse girl, and dare not 
leave it until thou art in a better humor, and comest to tell 
me that thou repentest of thine obstinacy — go V 

"This was the first of a long series of trials to Elesif. 
In her chamber she wept, as the young heart weeps when it 
first finds itself in the embrace of sorrow. The thought of 
Oecilio became consecrated by tears and prayers. She did 
not care to mingle in the gayeties of the court; she did not 
dare to take her accustomed strolls, or even to venture so far 
as the cell of the hermit. 

" In the meantime Cecilio wandered about the mountain 
constantly, in sight of the palace ; hoping vainly, from day 
to day, to catch a glimpse of her he loved. She came not. 
A feverish anxiety devoured him. He applied to the her- 
mit; but he could tell him nothing of her. Sleep fled 
from his eyes. In the night-time he took his lute, and, 
going beneath her window, he poured forth his soul in 
strains of the saddest music. Elesif recognized the sounds. 
She stood trembling. She feared to open her window, lest 
she should be heard ; yet her heart could not permit him to 
leave without some token. She took a rose from a vase of 
flowers, and had quietly opened the window, when she heard 
the sound of voices as in strife — a struggle — the j airing, 
discordant sound of the lute, as if it had suddenly fallen to 
the ground, and then all was silent. Her heart stood still 
in terror. Falling upon her knees, she poured forth her 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE, 151 

soul in supplication for the safety of her lover; then rising, 
she threw herself upon her couch, but not to sleep, for her 
heart was filled with the most cruel anxieties. 

" The next day she received orders from Theodoric to 
prepare for a high festival that was to be held that night in 
the palace. She dared not disobey. The evening came, 
and the rooms flashed with a thousand lamps. All was joy- 
ous, all but the heart of Elesif. As she appeared in simple 
white robes, with the blue forget-me-nots twined amidst her 
hair, and her cheek glowing with the fever-flush of anxiety, 
a murmur of admiration ran through the assembly. Atillio 
was ever by her side, heightening her distress by his atten- 
tions. 

" Finding themselves at length amid the fragrant gardens 
of the palace, separated from the crowd, he spoke to her 
more tenderly than he had hitherto done : he told her of his 
love and of his hopes. 

" i In mercy, speak not of it,' she said, ' my soul is 
already tortured beyond endurance/ Then, seeing his look 
of surprise, she added, 'Pardon me! you are noble and 
good ! too noble, too good, not to deserve the whole affec- 
tion of one whom you would wed. Should I consent to 
marry you, I should be doing you a gross injustice, for my 
heart has already been given beyond recall. It has been a 
fatal gift, I fear, and has already brought pain and misfortune 
to the possessor.' The feelings of her heart would not be 
repressed. She told him artlessly and fearlessly the story 
of her love. She told him the events of the last night, and 
of her fears, not the less terrible because they were unde- 
fined. The generosity of the young man justified her trust. 
' Lady,' he said, l you shall never be persecuted upon my 
account. I will learn what tidings I can of your lover; and, 
though my love must be hopeless, it will ever be my happi- 
ness to serve you.' These words were sadly spoken, and 



152 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Elesif wept afresh, as it appeared that she was destined to 
give pain to every one aronnd her. 

" From that evening Theodoric no longer confined her to 
her own room, nor spoke to her of Atillio. She was per- 
mitted to wander freely as hitherto ; but nowhere did she 
find any trace of her lover. The bloom fled from her cheek, 
and the light from her eye. Her only consolation was to 
visit the hermit and listen to his counsel. He could tell her 
nothing of her lover ; but he had himself known sorrow, 
and his sympathy lulled the poignancy of her grief. She 
came no more with the blithe, bounding step of former 
days, for her body seemed to partake of the weariness of- her 
soul. 

" Even Theodoric noticed how she was fading, and his 
heart smote him as he thought of her father. In this 
melancholy way three months had passed, when Theodoric 
was alarmed by the news that his enemies were ravaging the 
more southern portions of his dominions. He determined 
to go forth and meet them ; but at the same time he wished 
to place his palace in a complete state of defence. It was 
unprovided with water sufficient to serve any great number 
of troops. Theodoric was sorely perplexed how to have it 
conveyed to that height. He offered a large reward to any 
one who would supply the want. Atillio had learned, after 
many inquiries, that Cecilio was held a fast prisoner in the 
dungeons of the castle; he had learned also from Father 
Paolo that he was skilled in science, and it occurred to him 
that this might be an opportunity for his liberation. He 
mentioned to Theodoric that a young Italian had inhabited 
the neighboring tower, who, if he could be found, might 
assist them in the difficulty. Theodoric immediately 
ordered Cecilio to his presence, and offered him his liberty 
on condition that he would supply the palace with water. 
Cecilio immediately undertook it. Reservoirs, in the re- 



WASHINGTON IRVING OUTDONE. 153 

mains of which we saw the young kids this afternoon, were 
constructed, water was conveyed into the palace, and the 
young Italian was orowned with favors. 

"Where or how the lovers met, our chronicle does not 
say, but the light soon came back to the eye of Elesif, and 
her step was as buoyant as ever. Some days of anxiety she 
was yet destined to experience, for her lover went forth to 
battle ; but for this she was repaid when he returned vic- 
torious, and when Theodoric placed her hand in that of 
Cecilio, saying, c Pardon the pain I have given you ; your 
own heart was your best counsellor; for in my dominions 
there is not a nobler heart nor a braver spirit than his whom 
you have chosen.' 

" There was mirth and revelry at the palace — trains of 
noble lords and gay clames ; wine, and fruits, and flowers 
decked the feast. The altar in the chapel was wreathed 
with roses, and Cecilio and Elesif stood before it, and 
received the blessing of the hermit. Many years of happi- 
ness remained to them. Under the direction of Cecilio the 
Pontine Marshes were drained, and the Appian Way repaired 
— works which Theodoric thought worthy to commemorate 
on tablets of stone." 

But telling stories at Terracina is not getting on toward 
Naples ; and should I undertake to report all that were im- 
provised on this occasion, I fear the reader would fall asleep 
over the record, as I did during the entertainment ; and 
one, at least, of the remaining improvisitori would suffer no 
small disparagement in comparison with the preceding speci- 
mens. It was something past midnight when we 

"Wrapped the drapery of our couch 
About us, and lay down- to pleasant dreams." 



7* 



154 A YEAR IN EUROPE 



CHAPTER XII. 

JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 

WAYSIDE GLIMPSES — FONDI — ITRI CICERO'S TOMB AND FORMIAN 

VILLA EXTENSIVE PROSPECT GAETA WATER-NYMPHS VALLEY OF 

THE LIRIS SANT' AGATA SESSA CAPUA AVERSA NAPLES HIS- 
TORY — POPULATION — TRADE — FORTIFICATIONS. 

Leaving this romantic town, the road for some distance 
is overhung by the mountain on the left, and washed by the 
Mediterranean on the right. In this narrow passage, the 
Romans encountered the Saninites, three hundred and fifteen 
years before Christ. In the second Punic War it was the 
stronghold of Fabius Maximus, who successfully disputed 
the pass with Hannibal. The cliffs are full of sepulchral 
excavations, and mouldering tombs and towers everywhere 
speak of departed glory. Then the road strikes inland, 
between the mountains and the Lago di Pondi, instead of 
following the sinuosities of the shore. Upon the mountains 
we saw the Convent of the Passionists, on the site of the 
villa where the Emperor G-alba was born ; and in the plain 
across the lake once stood the ancient city of Amycla3, which, 
according to Pliny and Servius, was depopulated by swarms 
of serpents. Passing these, and the picturesque town of 
Monticello beyond, we ascended a beautiful valley, full of 
vineyards, and famous for its wines. As we drew near to 
Pondi, nine miles from Terracina, the groves of lemons and 



JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 155 

oranges constituted a very beautiful sight. The town itself 
is a more miserable place than an untravelled American can 
imagine, and from time immemorial has had the reputation 
of being a nest of banditti. It boasts a population of 
nearly six thousand souls, and a more beggarly and suspi- 
cious-looking set of inhabitants I am sure it would be diffi- 
cult to find. Anciently it bore a better character ; for the 
family of Livia, the wife of Augustus, was originally of 
Fondi. Some of the polygonal wall is still seen at the gate 
by which we entered the city, and a portion of the Appian 
pavement remains in the principal street by which we passed 
through it. Here too is the old Dominican convent in 
which Thomas Aquinas taught theology five hundred years 
ago, an orange tree which he is said to have planted with 
his own hands, and a well which yet bears his name. There 
is a pretty story told of the beautiful Countess G-onzaga, who 
dwelt here in the sixteenth century, whom the pirate Bar- 
barossa attempted to seize and carry off as a present to the 
Turkish Sultan ; but the lady fled naked at midnight from the 
castle, and eluded her pursuer among the mountains ; where- 
upon Barbarossa, disappointed of his prize, sacked and 
destroyed the town ; and pity it is, I cannot help thinking, 
that it was ever rebuilt ! 

In Fondi 'we halted an hour; during which our horses 
were cruelly branded on the side, for what purpose I did nob 
learn ; and two more were added to the number, so that we 
had six to draw us up the mountain, through the dreary pass 
of Itri. This defile was formerly the much-dreaded haunt 
of banditti ; and even now, it is not altogether secure for 
the lonely traveller. Here, in the sixteenth century, Marco 
Sciarra had his headquarters. This notorious brigand, learn- 
ing that Tasso was to pass this way, sent to offer him a safe 
passage, and assure him of his protection. The wild and 
desolate scenery of the mountains on either hand, independ- 



156 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

eiit of the reputation of the place, is sufficient to justify 
the worst apprehensions of the traveller. Itri, seven miles 
from Fondi, is nearly as despicable in appearance, and 
glories in a still more infamous history. This was the birth- 
place of the notorious brigand Fra Diavolo — so called from 
his constant elusion of his pursuers, while he was robbing 
and murdering all who came in his way; on account of 
which it was supposed that he was favored with the special 
aid and friendship of his satanic majesty. Itri and Fondi 
have contributed more heroes to the lists of banditti than 
any other two towns in Italy, and each still quarrels with the 
other for the fame of preeminence in this production. As 
we passed through the place at a smart trot, a number of lit- 
tle boys ran along by the side of the vettura, singing a sort 
of chorus to a not unmelodious air, the twofold burden of 
which seemed to be a eulogy of Miss P.'s beauty and a peti- 
tion for alms : 

" Signorina grazziosa, 
Date mi qualche cosa." 

Descending from Itri, the road follows a narrow valley, 
the hills on either side of which are terraced, and covered 
with vineyards and olive-groves. A pleasant ride of six or 
seven miles brought us to the tomb of Cicero — a lofty round 
tower upon a square base, occupying, according to tradition, 
the very spot where the executioners overtook the orator, a*s 
he was escaping in a litter to the seashore, and cut off the 
noblest head that ever sat on Roman shoulders. We spent a 
couple of hours at the albergo just beyond, which is called 
by his name, and said to stand on the site of his beautiful 
Formian Villa. The grounds around the hotel are full of 
orange and lemon trees; and, only think of it, classical 
reader, we feasted on fruit which grew in Cicero's garden ! 
Scattered here and there, we saw masses of reticulated 
masonry — probably the remains of Cicero's baths. This wis 



JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 157 

the orator's favorite residence, the scene of his political 
conferences with Pompey, and the calm retreat where he 
enjoyed the society of Scipio and Lelius. It was near this 
that Horace lodged at the house of Murena ; and the whole 
coast, for a considerable distance in both directions, is lined 
with the remains of Soman villas. The view from the ter- 
race of the albergo is one of great beanty, even independently 
of its classical associations. To the north is the dark -brown 
mass of bare and rugged mountains. To the east are smil- 
ing valleys, clothed with perpetual verdure, and clotted with 
towns and villages. Far to the southeast stands Vesuvius, 
with his crown of vapor, and the mountains that half encir- 
cle the bay of Naples. A little farther to the right is 
seen the blue outline of Ischia and Procida — two vast vol- 
canic heaps thrown up from the bed of the sea. Next 
comes the island of San Stefano, where the state criminals 
are incarcerated ; and near it, Yentotene — the ancient Pan- 
dataria, to which Augustus banished his dissolute daughter 
Julia, and where Agrippina and Octavia both perished in 
exile. Still nearer is Pontia — now called Ponza, the brilliant 
feat of whose capture by Sir Charles Napier won for him the 
title of the Count of Ponza; where Nero, the son of G-er- 
manicus, died by his own hand; and where many of the 
early Christians, under Tiberius and Caligula, suffered for 
their faith. Not far from this are seen Palmarola — the 
ancient Palmaria, and Zannone — the ancient Sinonia. And 
there, three or four miles to the west, completing the circle, 
stand the town and castle of Gaeta, on a projecting hill, 
extending some distance into the sea, and connected by a 
low and narrow isthmus to the mainland. This is a place of 
great strength — the key-fortress to the Neapolitan kingdom. 
It survived the invasions of the Lombards and the Saracens, 
and maintained its liberty till the thirteenth century; when, 



158 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

with, the other free cities of Southern Italy, it was absorbed 
in the Norman conquest. In later times it has been strongly 
fortified, and again and again has withstood the shock of war. 
Hither fled the present Vicar of the Most High, when the 
Roman dirk threatened his bastard divinity. Here lies 
sepulchred the Constable de Bourbon, who was_ killed in the 
capture of Rome in 1527. 

Mola di G-aeta is a smaller town on the opposite or eastern 
side of Cicero's Villa, lying along the seashore at the foot of 
the mountains. Our road passing directly through it, we 
walked forward, and awaited our vettura beyond. As we 
left the town, we crossed a rapid mountain stream, in which 
stood some fifteen or twenty women, with cart-loads of soiled 
linen, pounding and splashing as if for life, and chatting, 
and laughing, and singing, in the merriest mood imaginable. • 
Here the modern post-road runs inland, up the broad valley 
of the Grarigliano — the ancient river Liris — leaving the Via 
Appia, which follows the seashore to Pozzuoli. At a little 
distance to the right we saw the village of Mondragone, on 
the site of Sinnessa — memorable in the journey of Horace, 
who there met Virgil and his other friends. "We passed 
close by all that remains of Minturna — the mouldering 
amphitheatre, a few half-buried substructions, and a long line 
of aqueduct arches — many of them still entire — stretching 
across the plain ; and on a hill two miles to the left stood 
the town" of Traotte, built from the ruins of the ancient city. 
We crossed the river on a fine suspension bridge, near where 
Marius concealed himself among the rushes from the pursuit 
of Sylla; and near the scene of the memorable battle of 
December 27, 1503; in which G-onsalvo the Spaniard put 
the French army to Sight, and made himself master of the 
kingdom. The road follows the sinuous course of the stream 
for several miles; and then, quitting it, aud climbing the 



JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 159 

lower slopes of the mountains, winds about in a curious 
manner, among beautiful wheat fields and olive plantations, 
till it reaches Sant' Agata, where we spent our third night. 

Arriving here early in the afternoon, we walked over the 
lofty viaduct to Sessa, the gate of which is less than a mile 
from our albergo, and took a view of the town. It stands 
on the site of the ancient Suessa Arunca; and contains 
about eighteen thousand people — as miserable a herd, I be- 
lieve, as can be found in any city on earth. Many ancient 
remains are found here — the ruins of a fine bridge and a 
large amphitheatre — vaulted reservoirs, and polygonal pave- 
ments ; and in the volcanic rock beneath are vast excavations, 
with painted chambers, similar to those of the old Etruscan 
cities. While looking about we were beset with crowds of 
beggars, whose clamor was so annoying that we cut short our 
excursion, and returned to the hotel. The mountains in this 
neighborhood all indicate former volcanic action; and the 
hills of Kocca Monfina, at a little distance, are full of 
extinct craters. A circle of detached elevations, which 
seems to have formed the outer edge of one of these, encloses 
an area nine miles in circumference; and within this space 
are two cones, one of which is thirty-two hundred feet high. 

Early the next morning we were again en route for Na- 
ples, passing through that rich and beautiful region so much 
praised by the Latin poets for its Falernian wine, and about 
noon reaching the memorable Capua, where we paused for 
refreshment. The city stands in a curve of the Volturno, 
which nearly surrounds it, flowing with as rapid a current 
now as in the classic days of old. We entered by a gate in 
a formidable wall, enclosed by a double fosso, with draw- 
bridges. In case of necessity, the fosso can be filled with 
water from the river; and all external communication, 
except by ball and bombshell, effectually cut off. The city 
has about ten thousand inhabitants, and is one of the most 



160 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

important military stations in the kingdom. Ancient 
Capua is two miles nearer Naples, where its ruins are still to 
be seen, with its beautiful amphitheatre. In the year of our 
Lord 1501, this town was taken and sacked by Caesar Bor- 
gia, when five thousand of the inhabitants perished by the 
treacherous cruelty of the conqueror. 

From Capua to Naples is sixteen miles. The whole dis- 
tance is one continuous vineyard, and produces the choicest 
Falernian. The vines are supported by trees, and grow to 
the height of forty or fifty feet. The fertility of this 
region is wonderful, and not exceeded by any part of Eu- 
rope. The country is perfectly level, and the trees and 
vines, like a perpetual forest, shut in the view, so that 
nothing is seen except what is immediately on the road. 

About half-way between Capua and Naples is Aversa,- 
containing eighteen thousand inhabitants ; but for the rea- 
son just mentioned we saw nothing of it, except the gate as 
we approached, and the street through which we passed, and 
which was very much like those of other Italian cities — 
narrow, dirty, full of priests and donkeys, monks and sol- 
diers, police-officers and pickpockets, noisy facchini and 
lousy lazzaroni. There is one thing here worth mentioning 
— a famous lunatic asylum, established by Murat, and 
affording convenience for five hundred patients. 

It was here, I think, that we saw an interesting work of 
art — a pictorial admonition for brigands, painted on the out- 
side wall of a little chapel by the wayside, for the profit of 
all who pass. A gang of robbers, who had committed some 
great atrocities, having been taken, were executed upon this 
spot; and here they are, in hell, the flames curling around 
them, and long-tailed devils tossing them about with pitch- 
forks. 

Soon after leaving Aversa it was very evident that we 
were drawing near to Naples. The way was thronged with 



JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 161 

people of all descriptions, on foot, on horseback, on oxback, 
on assback, and in all sorts of vehicles. We frequently met 
a mule carrying three men ; or a donkey, not larger than a 
good-sized Newfoundland dog, bestridden by half a dozen 
boys; or a rickety, two-wheeled nondescript, drawn by a 
single horse, and containing from ten to fifteen persons — ■ 
some sitting, some standing, some hanging on behind, and 
others suspended by hands and feet from the axle-tree. It 
was quite surprising, after having travelled half a day 
through a region perfectly flat, to find ourselves suddenly on 
the brow of a hill, with the beautiful Napoli far beneath us. 
And there sat the imperial Vesuvius, like a Turkish sultan 
smoking his pipe, upon his vast carpet of green fields and 
vineyards, adorned with a hundred towns and villages, and 
walled in with mountains of amethyst and jasper, and the 
bay at his feet like a monarch's bowl at a feast. 

The road descends, by a deep cutting, through the sub- 
urban San Griovanniello, to the gate of the city. Here our 
passports were taken from us, and certificates furnished us 
instead ; and by the payment of a fee to the custom-house 
officials, our baggage was exempted from examination. This 
was the policy observed throughout the entire route ; and, 
indeed, if one has plenty of carlini, he can travel all over 
the kingdom and never unlock his trunks. As faithful ser- 
vants of the government, is it not the duty of these officials 
to make as many piasti'es as possible out of the forestieri ? 
Is not this the purpose for which they are posted at their 
several stations along the road ? At any rate, they invaria- : 
bly proposed, for a consideration, to pass our baggage un- 
opened ; and their profit, of course, was our preference, since 
by this method we saved both time and temper. 

The first thing that strikes the stranger, on arriving in 
Naples from Rome, is the dissimilarity of the two cities. 
They say: "Naples for beauty, Home for sanctity." It 



162 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

may reasonably be questioned whether this is the true 
point of contrast; or if the true, I doubt if it is the 
chief. Naples is certainly a very beautiful city, and 
the Stracla Toledo is pronounced " the finest two-mile 
street in Europe;" but the beauty of Naples consists 
mainly in its situation and environments, which can- 
not be surpassed without the gates of Paradise. Its 
climate also is milder than that of Rome, and tropical 
flowers and fruits are abundant, and the ladies sit uncovered 
in their balconies, and all sorts of artisans are plying their 
various handicrafts in the streets. The Eternal City looks 
as if it were just going into an eternal sleep, and the peo- 
ple are as indolent and stupid as the pope ; but Naples is 
brisk with business, and its stir and hum constantly remind 
an American of New York or New Orleans, though the mul- 
titude perhaps are more intent on pleasure than profit. Its 
population is twice as large as that of Rome, many living 
entirely in the open air; and large districts through which 
we passed seemed crowded almost to suffocation. 

Naples is the ancient Neapolis. It was originally a Greek 
city. Four hundred and twenty-seven years before Christ 
it confederated with the Samnites against the Romans. The 
latter soon triumphed, but the conquering eagle spread his 
protecting wings over the conquered. Under the fostering 
care of the Republic, the city rose rapidly in prosperity and 
importance. But her strong attachment to the Roman in- 
terest excited the resentment of Hannibal, who ravaged her 
territory with more than his usual ferocity. After this it 
enjoyed a long period of tranquillity, still retaining its ori- 
ginal language, with most of its ancient laws. The unrival- 
led fertility of its soil, the incomparable beauty of its coast, 
and the balmy mildness of its winter climate, drew hither 
the luxurious Romans; and poets and orators, consuls and 
emperors, adorned its romantic scenery with their villas. 



JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 163 

Virgil and Horace sang in its groves; Pliny and Cicero so- 
journed upon its shores; here "Lucullus dined with Lcrcul- 
lus," and Augustus swept along with his magnificent array ; 
here Tiberius enacted the beast, and Nero and Caligula 
played the madman and the fiend. i 

During the reign of Titus, in the year seventy-nine of the 
Christian era, occurred the first serious interruption to the 
prosperity of the city — the first recorded eruption of Mount 
Vesuvius, terrifying its inhabitants, demolishing its palaces, 
and desolating its coasts. Then, for a series of centuries, 
with the rest of Italy, it was wasted by civil wars and bar- 
barian incursions. It was taken by Theodoric the Goth, but 
restored by Belisarius to the Grecian empire. It was har- 
assed and plundered successively by the Lombards, the 
Saracens, and the Normans; who, in their turn, became the 
prey of the Germans, the French, and the Spaniards. The 
latter remained its acknowledged masters, governed it by 
viceroys for many years, and at last gave it a king. Of all 
these different tribes many traces may be discovered in the 
manners, the customs, and the dialect of its people. Pro- 
bably the Latin was never its popular language ; and there 
are more Greek words in its present Italian than in that of 
any other city, of the peninsula. The Prench also has 
affected its pronunciation, and the Saracenic has left its 
alloy. 

No vestiges remain of the ancient magnificence of Nea- 
polis. Her temples, palaces, theatres, and basilicas, de- 
spoiled by the barbarian conqueror, have been shattered by 
the sledge of Vulcan, and Neptune has covered their frag- 
ments with his waves. Her modern edifices are less remark- 
able for their taste and elegance, than for their wealth and 
magnitude. Her population, however, is undoubtedly 
greater now than at any former period ; perhaps also her 
opulence, her industry, and her general prosperity. True, 



1G-JL A YEAE IN EUROPE. 

never was there a greater swarm of soldiers in Naples dur- 
ing a season of peace; and never, perchance, were they 
more essential to the royal safety and the popular quiet. At 
the same time, never was there so great an influx of tourists 
and transient sojourners; while, as I am told — Heaven 
grant it may be true ! — the class of lazzaroni is constantly 
decreasing, and likely soon to be unknown. Containing 
within her walls nearly half a million of people, her 
suburban towns and villages number not less than a hun- 
dred thousand more. The third city of Europe — the queen 
of the Mediterranean — she sits enthroned in beauty upon 
the border of the bay, with all her maids of honor beside 
her; and Vesuvius, her royal spouse, with his crown of 
fire, overlooking the array. From the deck of a steamer, or 
from the distant heights of Sorrento, the whole assumes the 
appearance of a continuous city, stretching in a semicircle 
eighteen miles along the shore, from the Punta di Posilipo 
on the left, to Torre del Annonziata on the right. 

Of the many thousands that eat their daily maccaroni 
within the gates of this fair metropolis, though pretending 
to love their native city to distraction, where is the man that 
would lift his little finger for her benefit ? Her artisans are 
snails; her tradesmen are greedy jobbers; her soldiers are 
servile hirelings ; her nobles, such as have not yet taken to 
street-begging, care for nothing but the table and the thea- 
tre ; the king himself is the greatest gambler in the world, 
and derives his largest revenue from the lottery; while his 
subjects, of both sexes and all classes, live, move, and have 
their being in its hazards and its hopes. 

The most independent class of citizens are the lazzaroni. 
See that specimen yonder, with head, and neck, and bosom 
bare, toasting himself upon the glowing pavement. What 
cares he for yesterday, or what for to-morrow ? His aban- 
don is perfect. With a wit proverbial, a temper invariable, 



JOURNEY RESUMED AND FINISHED. 165 

and a patience inexhaustible, he unites the art of an impro- 
visitore, the tact of a diplomatist, and the grace of an 
Apollo. All this is indigenous with him : if he ever stoops 
to the drudgery of what Coleridge calls " originating an 
idea," it is in the way of pondering a lucky number for the 
lottery. 

! The morning after our arrival I saw a woman lying upon 
the naked stones, in front of the theatre of San Carlo, with 
four ragged little children around her, and she was weeping 
amain. I threw her a few carlini, and passed on. When I 
returned, an hour afterward, she was sitting erect, and play- 
ing with the children; but as soon as she saw a forestiero ap- 
proaching, she threw herself flat upon her face, and " lifted 
up her voice and wept." Subsequently I met with her 
often, and in various places; and she was generally lying 
upon the ground, and howling as loud as she could. Not 
understanding how she managed to maintain such constant 
intensity of grief, I one day asked our cicerone about it. 
He replied: " 0, that is her business; she weeps for her 
maccaroni ; she will never cease weeping till the forestieri 
depart I" 

Without the regularity of what we call a market, certain 
districts here have a traffic peculiar to themselves. If you 
would see oranges, step down to the quay when the boats 
from Sorrento are unloading. If you like oysters, go along 
the street next the bay toward the Villa Reale. There is a 
place near the heart of the city where you may purchase 
almost any thing that ever breathed the ocean brine. There 
you will see the delicate little sardine, fresh from its watery 
home ; the skait and the sole, with eyes in the wrong place, 
and mouth all askew; beautiful creatures of all colors, pink 
and purple, green and yellow, blue and scarlet, all intermin- 
gled and changeable ; great crawling masses of nondescript 
pulp — half-animal, half-vegetable — contracting and expand- 



166 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

ing like living jellies; huge eels — the real progeny of the 
sea-serpent — squirming and writhing in their tubs, in antici- 
pation of the frying-pan; little transparent monstrosities, 
all head; and ninetieth cousins of the crab and the lobster, 
all claw. You will find any desirable number of glove- 
stores in the JStrada Toledo, and the article in Naples is 
equal to any you get in Paris, and cheaper than in any 
other city in Europe. You should walk the whole length 
of this fine street, and you will be astonished at the amount 
of mercantile business in sundry departments. Of belle 
arti shops there is no lack in Naples. Who under the sun 
buys all these imitative wares, to say nothing of antiques — 
real or supposed — lava ornaments from Vesuvius, and coral 
trinkets from the sea? In this rainbow-tinted climate, 
everybody is a painter, but every painter is not an artist, 
and most of the pictures are copies, and most of the copies 
are caricatures. 

But he who has seen only the Toledo, and the broad 
streets and beautiful open spaces along the margin of the 
bay, knows nothing yet of Naples. He must dive into the 
populous centre, and thread the narrow lanes and alleys, 
where two-thirds of its people dwell in their dark and filthy 
dens. I had wondered how it was possible that nearly five 
hundred thousand human souls embodied should live within 
an area only some two miles wide and five miles long, till 
one day I accidentally wandered into the locality to which I 
now allude. It is impossible to describe the scene which I 
there beheld — streets without sidewalks, scarcely wide 
enough for a cart; buildings so lofty as entirely to shut out 
the sun, and almost the daylight; and these literally 
crammed, from cellar to garret, with a miscellaneous and 
miserable population. Thousands also seem to live altoge- 
ther in the streets — if that is the appropriate name for such 
dismal ditches — and thousands in the open air carry on their 



JOURNEY RESUMED AND EINI&iHED. 167 

various handicrafts. The cobbler, the tinker, the bootblack, 
the blacksmith, the carpenter, and even the public cook, 
pitch their industrial apparatus against the wall, reckless of 
hoof and wheel, and work away as if the city were their 
shop. In other localities, frequented by such as read and 
shave, you will see bookstores and barber-shops apparently 
doing a brisk out-door business ; and the mantuamaker 
and merchant-tailor arrange their respective assortments 
along the . swarming avenues ; and here are drygoods and 
groceries, hardware and cutlery, and all imaginable vendi- 
bles except cleanliness and virtue. Even water for drink- 
ing is publicly sold in the streets, carried about in earthen 
jars, and dispensed at the corners for a grano a glass. 

Half the people one meets with here are soldiers. You 
see a company or two march by your hotel every hour; and 
from sunrise to sunset, there is scarcely a moment when you 
may not hear the sound of trumpet and drum. The castles 
that guard the harbor command the city too; and their bas- 
tions are bristling with cannon, pointing down into the streets 
and squares ; and armed sentinels are pacing the walls, and 
clustering at the corners, and crossing their bayonets at 
every portal. Sant' Elmo stands upon a conical hill, over- 
looking every thing; and an enemy in possession of it, 
though an enemy would have something to do to get there, 
might demolish Naples in a few hours. The Ovo and the 
Nuovo could sweep the harbor, and make the bay in front of 
them a hot place for a hostile fleet. Every guard-house has its 
row of mounted guns ; and the royal residence looks doubly 
formidable, with its dark array of iron muzzles. I never 
saw another city so earnestly watched over, and so evidently 
ready, at a moment's warning, for an outbreak of the people. 
All is quiet now, but there have been recent mutterings 
underground, and there is no telling how soon the smothered 
fires may burst forth. Where is Masaniello ? 



168 A TEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

NAPOLI LA BELLA. 

ENVIRONS VILLA REALE CHIESE DE PARTU POETRY A PICTURE 

BURYING IN CHURCHES — 'GROTTA DI POSILIPO TOMB OF VIRGIL 

THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OP ST. PAUL OTHER CHURCHES ROYAL 

PALACE CAPODIMONTE THE CAMALDOLI. 



Deep bosomed in the still and quiet bay, 
The sea reflecting all that glows above";. 
Till a new sky, more soft, but not so gay, 
Arched in its bosom, trembles like a dove. 

The situation of Naples is one of unrivalled beauty. 
Whoever would look upon the grandest of terrestrial pano- 
ramas, should climb up to the citadel of Sant' Elmo, or ascend 
the lofty ridge of Posilipo. There he will see at his feet, 
lying in a semicircle along the margin of the most beautiful 
bay in the world, a city as fair as a pearly shell just cast up 
by the purple wave. To the east he will see Vesuvius, ris- 
ing in imperial majesty from the level Campagna — nature's 
great altar, smoking with perpetual sacrifice. At its base 
are four populous towns, sitting as gayly upon the shore as 
if Herculancum did not slumber in her lava tomb beneath, 
or the excavated palaces and temples of Pompeii continually 
rebuke their temerity. At its southern sido flows the Sarno, 



NAPOLI LA BELLA. 169 

through, a valley brown with vineyards and bright with vil- 
lages ; while the Apennines in the background stretch away 
to the right and the left, " all glowing of gold and amethyst." 
Farther southward the Sorrentine Promontory runs far out 
into the sea, its dark side studded with five gemlike cities, and 
the three-pointed Sant' Angelo shooting boldly up five thou- 
sand feet above the waters which lave its base. Still turning 
westward, the eye rests upon the broad expanse of azure, 
where the bay opens out into the Mediterranean ; with Capri 
on the one hand, and Ischia on the other, lifting their rocky 
battlements three thousand feet toward the sky, like two 
great marteilo towers, reared by nature, on opposite sides of 
a channel fourteen miles in width, to guard the entrance to 
her loveliest domain. 

Naples is a city difficult to describe. The Italians call it 
betta, and certainly there is about it something of strange 
and wondrous fascination. The grounds of the Villa Reale 
are delightful, with open walks and umbrageous avenues, 
and the fresh breeze from the wave which breaks just below 
the terrace. In the main promenade you see the enormous 
granite bowl from Pestum, supported by modern lions. And 
here are busts and statues — saints and sages, poets and ora- 
tors, heroes and emperors — for those who love to look at such 
things. But let us pass on to the MergiUina, where the 
tide of life ebbs away. Haste, or that pernicious musician 
will craze you with his bagpipe. I myself narrowly escaped 
with my hearing the other day, when one of them walked 
along by my side, blowing most dissonantly in my ear; and, 
when I quickened my pace, he quickened his ; and the more 
I cried Non c'e niente, the more lustily he blew. Those 
half-clad urchins, groping among the slippery rocks for crabs 
and sea-horses, seem brothers to the gulls that soar and 
swoop so familiarly about them. Every one of the little ras- 
cals can dive like a dolphin ; and even now that roguish eye 
8 



170 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

is watching to see if you will not cast a carlino into the 
thundering surf. The fishermen yonder are noble, stalwart 
fellows, the honest expression of whose swarthy countenances 
gives them an appearance of decided superiority to the mass 
of lower-class Neapolitans. 

Let us proceed. Here is a church, which, though a little 
one, is one of the most interesting in Naples. It was built 
by the poet Sannazarius, on the site of his favorite Villa 
Mergillina, which had previously been destroyed by the 
Prince of Orange, who commanded the garrison during the 
famous siege of Naples by the French. Its builder dedicated 
it to the Virgin, and called it De Partu, endowed it richly, 
and sung its charms in true Virgilian verse. The poem 
with which its name is chiefly associated is deemed one of the 
most beautiful that has appeared in the Latin language since 
the revival of letters. Thus it opens : 

" The virgin-born, coeval with his sire, 
Who left the mansions of celestial bliss, 
To wash away from fainting man the stain 
Of sin original, and opened wide 
The long-obstructed way to light and heaven — 
Be he my earliest theme! with him, my Muse, 
Begin ! Ye Powers above, if naught forbid 
My pious task, unfold the hidden cause, 
And all the progress of a scheme so great!" 

Then follows a magnificent appeal to the Virgin : 

"Celestial Queen! 
Thou on whom men below and saints above 
Their hopes repose ! on whom the bannered hosts 
Of heaven attend — ten thousand squadrons armed, 
Ten thousand cars self-moved — the clarion shrill — 
The trumpet's voice — while round in martial pomp, 
Orb within orb, the thronging seraphs wheel! 
If on thy fane, of snow-white marble reared, 
I offer yearly garlands; — if I raise 



NAPOLI LA BELLA. 171 

Enduring altars in the hollowed rock, 
Where Mergillina, lifting her tall head, 
A sea-mark to the passing sailor's eye; — 
If, with due reverence to thy name, I pay 
The solemn rites, the sacrificial pomp, 
When each returning year we celebrate 
The wondrous mystery of the birth divine ; — 
Do thou assist the feeble bard, unused 
# To tasks so great, and wand'ring on his way, 

Guide thou my efforts, and inspire my song !" 

Whether the " Celestial Queen" heard and answered the 
prayer of the " bard/' I will not presume to say. Certainly 
she would have done so, if capable of any thing like gratitude; 
for never before was woman invested with so magnificent 
an array — not even Beatrice by her adoring Dante ! He 
appears, at least, to have obtained help from some quarter; 
for, beyond all question, he sings very sweetly. 

But what of the church? Well, it is neither spacious, 
nor splendid, nor pretty ; but it is most poetically situated, 
as the poet intimates in the foregoing verses, on the side of 
the hill which slopes gently toward the bay, not far from the 
tomb of Virgil, and the poet himself sleeps within its walls. 
His resting-place is adorned with statues and basi relievi, 
representing, among other things, pagan divinities, satyrs, 
and nymphs — not very suitable ornaments for a Christian 
sanctuary; but the fathers of the convent connected with 
the church have ingeniously obviated the incongruity, by 
inscribing the statue of Apollo with the name of David, 
and that of Minerva with the name of Judith — an expedient 
which has often been resorted to, I believe, in Borne; and 
certainly quite as consistent as christening a bronze statue 
of old heathen Jupiter after " the prince of the apostles," 
and requiring the whole Catholic creation to come and kiss 
his great toe ; or putting a Saint Peter upon a pillar, whose 
sculptured ornaments perpetuate the fame of the Emperor 



172 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Trajan ; or a Saint Paul, with a sword in his hand, upon a 
column sacred to the memory of Marcus Aurelius ! 

But look we into this little chapel. Here is a picture- 
Michael the archangel trampling Satan under his feet. But 
what a curious conceit of the artist ! the old serpent has a, 
female face of most exquisite loveliness ! The reason is as 
curious as the fact. A lady of uncommon beauty unfortu- 
nately fell in love with the Bishop of Ariano. Whether the* 
Bight Keverend Father returned her tender passion for a 
season, I am sure I cannot say. Certain it is, however, 
according to the story, that sooner or later — perhaps about 
the age of sixty-five, or in the near prospect of death — he 
was smitten with abhorrence of the fair one's sacrilegious 
temerity ; and when fitting up this chapel as his mausoleum, 
he ordered the painter to degrade her into the infernal 
spirit, and lay her prostrate at the point of the archangel's 
spear. This Joseph died, and was not canonized ! 

By the way, what a lamentable, disgusting, pernicious, 
and impious practice is that of heaping up putrid carcasses in 
holy places, and making the house of Grod a graveyard ! 
How strange it is, that so odious a custom should have been 
so obstinately retained, not only in Papal Italy, but also in 
Protestant England and America ! It would be difficult to 
educe one argument in its favor, either from the principles 
of religion, or from the dictates of reason ; while its incon- 
veniences are obvious, and its evil consequences are unde- 
niable. Among the early Christians, the honor of being 
deposited in the church was reserved for martyrs. Constan- 
tine only desired to lie in the porch of the Basilica of the 
apostles, which he himself had erected at Constantinople. 
Therefore the eloquent Chrysostom, speaking of the triumph 
of Christianity, proudly observes, that the Cassars, subdued, 
through the grace of God, by the fishermen whom they had 
persecuted, now appeared as suppliants before them, and 



NAPOLI LA BELLA. 173 

gloried in occupying the place of porters at the doors of their 
sepulchres. Bishops and distinguished divines were after- 
ward gradually permitted to share the honors of the martyrs, 
and to repose with them in the interior of the sanctuary. 
A pious wish in some to be entombed near such holy persons, 
and to rest under the shadow of the altars ; in others, an 
absurd love of distinction even in death — to which may be 
added the avarice of the clergy, who, by making the privi- 
lege expensive, rendered it enviable — by degrees broke 
through all the wholesome restrictions of antiquity, and at 
length converted the temples of the living God into the 
loathsome dormitories of the dead ! 

But let us proceed, submissive reader, for there are won- 
ders beyond. See you that lofty promontory, projecting far 
out into the bay ? That is the Punta di Posilipo. See you 
that dark aperture, looking like a great Gothic arch in the 
brown tufa ? That is the Grotta di Pozilipo — an ancient 
tunnel, half a mile long, twenty-two feet wide, and at the 
entrance seventy feet high, by which the road passes 
through the hill, from Naples to Pozzuoli and Baise. 
Observe, as we approach it, how the long lines of dimly- 
burning lamps glimmer through the darkness on both sides 
of the little patch of daylight, apparently not larger than 
your hat, at the other extremity. Hark ! as we enter, how 
voice and footstep echo along the subterranean gloom, and 
the single horseman that comes yonder makes more clatter 
than a whole troop of the old Roman cavalry, and the thunder 
of a solitary vettura is as if Caesar were at hand, with a hun- 
dred triumphal chariots. 

Who knows the origin of this great tunnel? In the middle 
ages it was supposed to be the work of Virgil, and the common 
people believed it to have been done by the poet's magic. 
It must have existed from the early days of Borne, but we 
have no distinct mention of it till the time of Nero. Seneca 



174 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

passed through it on his way from Baiee to Naples ) and he 
describes it as a long and gloomy prison, in which he " found 
nothing but mud, and dust, and darkness visible." In the 
fifteenth century, the floor was lowered, the roof was raised, 
and two air-shafts were opened above. A hundred years 
later, it was paved with large polygonal blocks of lava, a la 
Via Appia ; and since that period sundry other improve- 
ments have been added. One sees now, upon the walls on 
either side, at different elevations, the grooves made by the 
axles of vehicles in former times. Some of these are twenty 
or thirty feet .above our heads at the entrance, indicating 
that the floor has been as much higher than it is at present. 
About midway of the cavern, we find a little chapel cut in 
the wall, in which a light is ever burning before the image 
of the Virgin. These scanty lamps are not half sufficient' 
for the length of the passage, and one would think it must 
be a dangerous place for pedestrians. But here it opens to 
the western daylight, toward the ancient Elysian Fields, and 
a hundred scenes of classic interest beyond. These, how- 
ever, at present we cannot visit. Let us retrace our steps 
through \ho. darkness, for we have left behind us one object 
which no tourist in Italy neglects — the tomb of Virgil. 

Just where we entered the Grotta, a steep flight of steps 
leads up the rugged precipice into a vineyard. The custode 
already awaits us there, with the key. We follow him to 
the very top of the stupendous arch under which we lately 
passed. Here is a vaulted chamber, with a dome over it, 
and niches for urns and statues in the walls. Here, tradi- 
tion says, sleeps the great Latin poet. He died at Brundu- 
sium, and was brought hither at his own request for burial. 
Somewhere upon this picturesque promontory he had his 
villa ; where he wrote his Eclogues, his Greorgics, and per- 
haps his .ZEneid. The laurel planted by Petrarch over the 
tomb has disappeared piecemeal beneath the knife of the 



NAPOLI LA BELLA. 175 

tourist, and many a twig and chip of it lias travelled to 
England and America. From this advantageous eminence, 
one has a delightful view of the city and the bay, with 
Vesuvius across the water, whose cloudy pillar props the 
incumbent heaven. It is a delicious day, and sea and sky 
combine to produce an effect which defies alike the pencil 
and the pen. The purple sheen of the wave, the pearly 
radiance of the shore, the opal tints of the surrounding 
hills, and a heaven whose blue seems melted down in a way 
never witnessed out of Italy, invest the prospect with an 
ineffable beauty, making sight a wondrous blessedness, 
and giving a new luxury to life. 

Let us return into the city, and take a view of some of its 
churches. And first to the Neapolitan Cathedral. It stands 
upon the substructions of a temple of Apollo, and is adorned 
with more than a hundred columns once belonging to that 
ancient edifice. It was originally a Gothic structure ) but 
having been shattered by successive earthquakes, it has been 
repaired in so many different manners, that it presents now 
no particular order, but rather a combination of all. Its 
ornaments are in perfect keeping with its architecture — a 
jumble of beauties and deformities. Its most sacred depos- 
its, and indeed the most valuable treasures in the city — not 
excepting even the great sardonyx in the Museo Borbonico — 
are, first, the remains of Saint Januarius, which lie in a 
chapel beneath the choir ; and, secondly, his blood, which 
is kept in a bottle, and said to liquefy twice a year, while the 
stone on which he suffered martyrdom breaks into a crimson 
perspiration. Into the truth of these phenomena the Neapo- 
litans never give themselves the trouble to inquire; acting 
on the maxim of the ancient Germans, that it is more rever- 
ent and holy to believe things relating to the gods than to 
know them. And why should they not believe ? Have not 
the bones of Saint Januarius, borne in procession through 



176 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the streets of Naples, more than once appeased the wrath of 
old Vulcan, and arrested the fire-torrent that was rolling 
down the steep of Vesuvius ? 

The Church of Saint Paul occupies in part the site of a 
temple of Castor and Pollux, and in part that of the theatre 
where Nero first made his appearance in the imperial charac- 
ter of an actor on the stage. In its front are two of the 
fine Corinthian columns which formed the portico of the 
original building ; six others were destroyed by the earth- 
quake which overthrew it. The interior is spacious, well 
proportioned, and encrusted with precious raarble. The 
chancel is extensive, and supported by beautiful antique 
pillars, which possibly belonged also to the ancient temple. 

I must hasten. The Church of SS. Apostoli stands on 
the ruins of the temple of Mercury, is supposed to have 
been erected by Constantine, has been several times shat- 
tered and rebuilt, and is now a magnificent structure. That 
of S. Lorenzo occupies the site of the Basilica Augustalis — 
a noble hall, demolished in the thirteenth century, and 
replaced by the present comparatively tasteless building. 
That of S. Spirito is of a purer and simpler style ; adorned 
with fine Corinthian pilasters, entablature, and cornice ; en- 
cumbered with a superfluity of ornament, and wanting a 
softer color to please the eye. That of S. Dominico Mag- 
giore is remarkable for the tomb and bronze bust of the 
poet Marini, erected at the desire of Manso, the friend of 
Tasso and Milton, who left a bequest for the purpose. That 
of S. Filippo Neri is one of the finest churches in Naples, 
and famous for the number of ancient pillars that support 
its triple row of aisles on each side of the nave. That of 
S. Gaudioso, belonging to the Benedictine convent, con- 
tains the blood of St. Stephen, which, like that of Saint 
Januarius, liquefies annually on the day of the martyr's fes- 
tival. That of S. Giovanni — ; — 



NAPOLI LA BELLA. 177 

But I am sure you are tired, dear reader, and so am I. 
Let us have done with churches. If I should devote half a 
doze n lines to every one of the S. Giovannis, and Giocomos, 
and Gregorios, and Giorgios, and Genaros, and Martinos, 
and Antonios, and Gatarinas, and Augustinas, and Annun- 
ziatas, and Incoronatas, and Ascensiones, I fear you would 
never forgive me ; and if I should add all the Marias, of 
which there are not less than thirty, surely I should ruin 
myself with all my readers. There are more than three 
hundred churches in Naples; and some of them, artistically 
considered, are of immense value ; but religiously regarded, 
the African church in Nashville, or the basement of Trinity 
in Charleston, is worth a million of them ! 

The Royal Palace is a spacious and magnificent structure 
Its front is five hundred feet long, and more than a hundred 
feet high. The columns and pilasters of its three stories 
exhibit three orders of architecture — the Doric, the Ionic, 
and the Composite. Its furniture is equal to that of any 
palace in Europe. One of its upper saloons has twelve of 
the largest mirrors in the world, simply empanelled in a 
delicate border. On the ground-floor is a suite wholly wain- 
scotted with real frescoes and arabesques from Pompeii. 

Capodimonte is the King's suburban villa. It occupies 
an elevated site, strangely beautiful, upon the undermined 
crust of a tufo quarry, which has been artificially strength- 
ened to support the superincumbent structure. The grounds 
are delightful, and there is an ilex-shaded avenue more than 
a mile in length. Its farm is said to supply the royal table, 
and send a surplus to the Neapolitan market. Its balconies 
afford refreshing views of the city and its environs. Its 
pictures are not despicable, especially those which relate to 
events in the national history. Particularly interesting is 
u The Brave Girl of G-aeta/' who, after dispatching the 
French sentry & la Jael, spikes the guns with a store of 
8* 



178 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

ready nails from her apron, and then delivers over the for-. 
tress to her townsmen. 

Occupying the highest point of a range of hills north- 
west of Naples, overlooking the city, and commanding a 
view of the bay, and many a scene immortalized by Livy 
and Virgil, stands a monastery, called the Camaldoli. Of 
course the ladies of our party were not permitted to enter 
the cloisters, and we preferred their company to that of the 
monks, and the view we enjoyed without must have been 
infinitely better than any thing to be seen within. There 
were the bay and the sea, as blue as the azure above them ; 
and there was the capital of the Two Sicilies, with the fine 
promontories of Posilipo and Misinum ;. and there was the 
modern representative of the town, where Paul, the prisoner, 
with Luke, his companion, first touched the Italian shore ; 
and there were Avernus, and Lucrinus, and the Acheron", 
and the Elysian Fields, and the site of the beautiful Baiae, 
and of CumaB and Liturnuin, and the two villas of the, 
greatest of Roman orators; and there were the sweet 
islands of Nesida, Procida, and Ischia, with Capri beyond, 
lying like a great sphinx upon the water; and the Sorren- 
tine coast, with its mountain crest, and its smiling cities; 
and Vesuvius sending up its vapory column to the sky, like 
the fume of a mighty sacrifice ; and the vast panorama of 
the Campania Felix, with its far-spreading vineyards and 
olive-groves, and here and there a village gleaming out 
from the foliage, walled in by the purple Apennines. It 
was a scene to intoxicate the soul ; and, in the satisfaction 
of the hour, we forgot the monks and the monastery, and 
all the little sorrow of life floated off into the blue ether 
above us. 



MOUNT VESUVIUS. 179 



CHAPTER XIV. 

MOUNT VESUVIUS. 

THE ASCENT THE SUMMIT ANCIENT CONDITION GRAND ERUPTION 

OF A. D. 79 CONSTANT CHANGES OTHER ERUPTIONS VIEW FROM 

THE TOP DESCENT VARIOUS IMPRESSIONS. 

Mount Vesuvius was in full view from our hotel ; its 
dark swelling outline forming a grand pedestal for the 
column of cloud which stood upon its summit during the 
day, and which the night kindled into a pillar of fire. The 
sun had just risen above it, and hung tremulous in his lurid 
canopy, as if ready to fall back into the crater whence he 
seemed to have come, when we set forth on a visit to the 
volcano. Six miles from the city we rattled through the 
main street of Resina, with the palaces and temples of the 
buried Herculaneum eighty feet beneath our wheels. Here 
begins the ascent, where carriages are usually exchanged for 
horses and donkeys. Forty persons, at least, offered their 
services as ciceroni. Advertised of the impositions con- 
tinually practiced by these fellows, and desirous of obtaining 
the well-known veteran who has had the honor of conduct- 
ing Baron Von Humboldt and many other scientific gentle- 
men, we inquired at once for Vincenzo Cozzolino. One of 
the crowd promptly replied, " I am Cozzolino f and our 
driver, who knew him well, promptly confirmed the declara- 
tion. Unwilling to take the word of either, we applied to a 



180 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

shopkeeper for further information. He pointed us to a 
sign across the street, where we had the good fortune to find 
the real Cozzolino at his breakfast. Cozzolino, the pre- 
tender, was now ready to furnish us with beasts, and in five 
minutes more we were mounted and on our way. Our caval- 
cade was a most ludicrous spectacle, climbing a steep and 
narrow alley in single file, a dozen men and boys belabor- 
ing the poor animals with clubs, and shouting and yelling 
like a whole tribe of Indians. This assistance was more 
than we had bargained for; and we had actually to beat the 
rabble off, before we could pursue our way in peace. 

A rough ride of an hour and a half, by a gentle ascent, 
first through gardens and vineyards, and then over succes- 
sive beds of lava, some of them only a few years old, 
brought us to the foot of the great cone. Here we left our 
animals, and began the ascent on foot. It was the steepest 
and roughest road I had ever travelled. The lava, which 
contracts in cooling, and breaks into a thousand fragments, 
has precisely the appearance of cinders from a furnace, only 
the masses are larger, and their sharp angles form as 
uncomfortable a pavement as can well be imagined. We 
saw other ladies carried up in chairs, each upon four 
men's shoulders, a la pope in Saint Peter's ; but ours were 
American ladies, and declined all such assistance. We then, 
advised, and even urged, that they should allow the guides 
to aid them with straps; but they stoutly resisted our impor- 
tunity, and worked their way over the sharp masses with 
characteristic independence and energy. It was a long and 
toilsome effort ; and ever and anon, as they paused for 
breath, our officious Italian friends would call out one to 
another — " Signora 4 medza morta, Signorina e pronta di 
morire !" but our fair heroines pressed bravely on, literally, 
panting for the summit, and insisting that their promenade 
was very pleasant; till their score of kind attendants, find- 



MOUNT VESUVIUS. 181 

ing all their arguments and entreaties thrown away, forsook 
them, and returned in grievous disappointment to the foot 
of the cone. We were all under the necessity of stopping 
frequently to rest, and it was amusing to hear old Cozzolino 
urging us forward, with his mingled French, English, and 
Italian — " Courage, Signora ! Avante, Signorina ! Allez, 
allez ! Come along, Come along !" The ascent occupied 
nearly two hours, and the whole company was sufficiently 
fatigued ; but when near the summit we found a large mass 
of snow, which proved a delightful refreshment. We could 
not have had a more favorable day for our purpose ; for the 
shy was perfectly clear, and a light breeze bore the vapor 
and ashes in the opposite direction, so that we breathed a 
pare atmosphere, and had an unobstructed view. 

I shall never forget the moment when I first stood upon 
the verge of the great crater, and looked clown into the 
fierce cauldron at my feet. It is a round hole in the top of 
the mountain, about three hundred feet deep, and something 
more in diameter. Its walls are perpendicular, and appear 
to consist of solid masses of sulphur. From the centre rises 
a black cone nearly to a level with the surrounding rim, pre- 
cisely in the form of a funnel inverted in a tub. In the 
apex is an opening some twenty or thirty feet in width, 
puffing and blowing like fifty steam-engines, and pouring 
forth a tremendous volume of smoke. Occasionally the 
liquid mass is seen boiling and surging within, and ever and 
anon it flows over the edge, and rolls down the outside, like 
a stream of melted iron. At irregular intervals, varying 
from one minute to five, a grand explosion, like the blowing 
up of a Mississippi steamer, sends the red-hot .stones five or 
six hundred feet above the summit ; and these fall back into 
the glowing furnace, or come rattling down upon the sides 
of the cone. When these phenomena occurred, our old 
guide would clap his hands, and shout — "Bravo, bravo, Fra 



182 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Diavolo I" and challenge Ms infernal majesty to a bolder 
demonstration: Indeed, he entered heartily into the enthu- 
siasm of the company, and seemed to enjoy the scene as 
much as any of us, though he had witnessed it a thousand 
times. Several black masses beneath our feet, he told us, 
had fallen there during the preceding night ; but there was 
no danger now, for the wind was blowing in the other direc- 
tion. He showed us two large stones, one of which, in 
falling, some time ago, had killed an American officer, and 
the other had broken the skull of an Englishman. He said 
he had attended Humboldt in twenty-seven visits to the 
mountain, during three months which the philosopher spent 
at Naples for this purpose. While we were there, an Eng- 
lish party came up, under the guidance of the old man's 
son, some of whom ventured too near the brink to suit his 
ideas of prudence, and one of them, in spite of his admoni- 
tions, exposed himself to great danger, whereupon Coz- 
zolino exclaimed — " 0, he is an Englishman : he is a fool I" 
Very near this crater is another, of about the same diame- 
ter, but not quite so deep, with a smaller cone near its 
western wall, whose action was similar to that of the former, 
though less violent. One side of this crater is sloping ; and 
we descended, ankle-deep in hot ashes. The bottom is a 
level space, about two hundred feet across, and looks like a 
mass of melted pitch, the surface of which has hardened in 
ridges, contracting as it cooled, producing many cracks and 
chasms. The sulphurous vapor that came up through these 
openings was almost suffocating; and though we remained 
there not more than two or three minutes, and kept stepping 
continually, our boots were burned, and our feet well-nigh 
blistered with the heat. In the fissures, as we crossed 
them, we could see the red mass boiling beneath us; and 
here and there it was slowly oozing up, and flowing over the 
surface. We dipped coins into it, and brought away with 



MOUNT VESUVIUS. 183 

us, as a Yankee once said, " some of the saliva of Mount 
Usorius." The bottom of Mrs. C's dress took fire, and she 
beat a hasty retreat. As she stepped from the edge of the 
black crust, it broke beneath her tread, and the red lava 
came gushing up from the crack, and the fragment went 
slowly under, like the scum in a boiling pot. This black 
crust, indeed, is but the surface of a lake of fire, partially 
cooled upon the top by the action of the atmosphere. 
When we ascended, we found a collation awaiting us, con- 
sisting of bread and wine, with oranges, and some eggs, 
which an old man had cooked in a crevice, whence hot vapor 
issued. But poor Mr. Dey sank fainting from the effect of 
the sulphurous fumes he had inhaled, and it was a long time 
before he fully recovered. He had u taken too much of the 
crater !" 

Viewed from Naples, Yesuvius appears to have two sum- 
mits, with a deep valley between them; the southern or 
right hand one being the volcano, and the other called 
Monte Somma. From the top, however, the latter seems to 
be the segment of a circle, extending nearly half-way round 
the former, and perpendicular on the inner side. It is sup- 
posed ta have formerly encircled the present eruptive cone, 
and formed the wall of the original crater, which rose to a 
much greater height ; but the top of it, with all the southern 
and western sides, was blown away in the terrible eruption 
of seventy-nine, which destroyed Herculaneum and Pompeii. 
This supposition is abundantly confirmed by the history of 
that eruption, as well as by geological investigations and the 
ancient descriptions of Yesuvius. The old geographers, 
before the reign of Titus, speak of it as much larger and 
higher than it is now, and covered with a luxuriant vegeta- 
tion to the very rim of the rocky hollow upon its summit. 
There were traditions of its having vomited fire and smoke ; 
but the first recorded eruption was that just mentioned, in 



184 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

which the elder Pliny perished, and of which his nephew — 
the younger Pliny — was the historian. The latter tells us 
that the column of smoke which heralded that grand disas- 
ter was similar in form to a pine-tree. This will hardly be 
understood by one who has never seen the stone-pine of 
Italy, of which I believe we have no specimen in America. 
The tree shoots up to a great height without limbs, and then 
spreads out into a broad top, something like an umbrella. 
Such was the appearance of this tremendous cloud > ascend- 
ing to an immense altitude, and then spreading over the 
heavens. Afterward it settled down over land and sea, .pro- 
ducing darkness deeper than the blackest night; and ever 
and anon broad vivid flashes of lightning broke through the 
gloom, with reports which made heaven and earth to quake. 
The steam which ascended from the crater fell in torrents of 
hot water, bringing with it the light ashes which filled the 
air, and sweeping down the loose cinders from the side of 
the mountain, burying Herculaneum in a deluge of mud, 
which penetrated all its houses, and afterward hardened 
into stone. Meantime the glowing ashes piled themselves 
over the loftiest palaces and temples of Pompeii, producing 
a destruction not less effectual than the former. An im- 
mense column of flame shot up from the mountain, and fire 
and noxious vapor burst forth from the plain. The elder 
Pliny, who was creeping along the coast in a galley to rescue 
his friend at Stabie from the danger, saw huge masses, rent 
from the summit, roll down into the sea ; while a tempest 
of fire and ashes, flint and pumice-stone, beat incessantly 
into the ship. The smoke extended over a vast area, the 
scoria fell in very remote localities, and the greater part of 
the mountain was torn away. But this tremendous dis- 
charge exhausted the volcano, and it remained quiescent a 
hundred and twenty-four years. After this, eruptions suc- 
ceeded one another at long intervals, the greatest being two 



MOUNT VESUVIUS. 185 

hundred and sixty-nine years ; during which, the mountain 
became covered with trees, and the thick copse-wood within 
the crater was a covert for wild boars. In the seventeenth 
century, however, there were six distinct eruptions ; in the 
eighteenth, no less than thirty ; and the nineteenth promises 
a still greater number, for seventeen have occurred already. 
There are fifty-four of these destructive phenomena on 
record, besides many smaller ones, which did little or no 
damage. 

The form and appearance of the mountain are constantly 
changing, and often an eruption alters the entire aspect of 
the great central cone. During the last twenty-five years, 
its altitude has varied about seven hundred feet. It is now 
about four thousand feet high ; and, according to Humboldt, 
is constantly growing higher, being lifted up by the tremen- 
dous force within ; and this process" may still go on, till 
another grand explosion shall rend it asunder, and demolish 
the mountain as before. An American gentleman, long resi- 
dent in Rome, informed the writer, that when he visited 
Vesuvius, soon after the eruption of 1850, there was but a 
single crater, and that apparently bottomless ; that by means 
of a rope fastened around his waist, he descended to a great 
depth, and then could see nothing but an immense black 
orifice beneath him. But when we were there, there were 
two active craters, divided by a narrow ridge, both nearly 
full ; and the fiery mass was heaving and boiling with a 
heavy sound below, and the two black cones, with frequent 
terrific explosions, were gradually piling up the material for 
the magnificent eruption which has since occurred. What 
would I not have given for such a spectacle ! Old Cozzo- 
lino warned us of its approach, and prophecies of the event 
were rife among the Neapolitans, who seemed anxious to get 
up an eruption, probably less for our benefit than their own; 
but our time was short, and our purse was shorter, and the 



186 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

old'fire-king was too tardy in his grand pyrotechnical display. 
From the top of the mountain we could trace a dozen dis- 
tinct streams of lava down its sides, into the plain below, 
eight or ten miles from their source ; the more recent look- 
ing like rivers of pitch, streaked here and there with sul- 
phur. We passed solid masses of this latter substance, 
some of them very large; and walked over extensive beds 
of it, as pure and beautiful as any I ever saw in the shop of 
an apothecary. 

The glory of Vesuvius is terrible. Even in the compara- 
tively tranquil mood in which we beheld him, " the hiding 
of his power" impresses the mind with astonishment and 
awe. What a sight, when he is licking the sky with tongues 
of flame, and flooding his broad flanks with fire ! There lies 
Herculaneum, buried beneath six successive deluges of lava, 
to the depth of eighty or a hundred feet. There lies Pom- 
peii, just emerging from her volcanic grave, preserved by 
the very agent of her destruction. This mighty ruin, so 
sudden and entire, more than any thing else, aids us to a 
proximate idea of the tremendous forces at work in the 
interior of the mountain, and the fiery depths below. The 
eruption which happened in 472, described by Procopius, is 
said to have " covered Europe with ashes, which fell even at 
Constantinople and Tripoli." That of 1500 left an opening 
five miles in circuit, and a thousand paces deep. In that of 
1631, the column of vapor extended more than a hundred 
miles, and many persons were killed by its incessant dis- 
charges of electricity ; while seven distinct torrents of fire 
flowed from the crater, destroying four towns and eighteen 
thousand people. When it was over, the mountain was 
only half its present height, with a crater whose sloping 
sides might safely be descended; but the next eruption, in 
1660, completely cleaned out the vast cavity, and left the 
interior inaccessible from the steepness of its walls. In 



MOUNT VESUVIUS. 187 

1695 the mountain poured out a fiery stream, five miles 
long, three hundred feet hroad, and more than a hun- 
dred feet deep; and when examined six years afterward, 
the inside of this mass was found to be in a glowing 
heat. In 1707 it sent forth a shower of ashes, which 
produced total darkness in Naples, accompanied with the 
most appalling thunder and lightning. In 1780 it hurled 
red-hot stones to the height of fifteen hundred feet above 
the orifice whence they issued. In 1737 the ashes and 
pumice-stone fell four feet deep at Ottaiano, eight miles dis- 
tant; and trees were broken and houses crushed by the 
weight. In 1760 fifteen small craters threw out immense 
quantities of ashes, and two of them discharged torrents of 
fire. In 1767 the decks of vessels sixty miles distant were 
covered with the falling ashes, and a river of lava seventy 
feet deep ran six miles down the mountain, which was hot 
enough to set a stick on fire thrust into it a year afterward. 
In 1779 there was an explosion which shook the whole 
country, and a stupendous column of fire suddenly rose to 
three times the height of Vesuvius itself, and vast stones 
were hurled two thousand feet toward heaven, many of which 
burst like rockets in the air, and some of the fragments 
which fell weighed over a hundred pounds, and the roof of 
every house in Ottaiano was demolished by the fiery hail, 
and the black cloud of smoke and ashes travelled a hundred 
miles in less than two hours, and so fierce and frequent were 
the lightnings that darted from it that the Neapolitans were 
in the utmost consternation, fearing the destruction of the 
city. In 1794 there was a still more tremendous explosion, 
and the surface of the ground along the coast was seen to 
undulate from east to west like the sea in a storm, and a fis- 
sure opened down the south-west side of the mountain three 
thousand feet long, and fifteen distinct streams of lava 
poured forth, which united as they descended, passed 



188 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

through the town of Torre del G-reco, and ran nearly four 
hundred feet into the sea, and two days afterward the water 
was in a boiling state at the distance of a hundred yards, 
and no vessel could approach without melting the pitch from 
its bottom. In 1822 ashes and stones were thrown out, 
which fell for four days in one continual shower ; and the 
column of vapor, which rose ten thousand feet above the 
mountain, descended in deluges of scalding rain upon the 
surrounding villages ; and the eruption left a hollow place in 
the top, with perpendicular walls, three miles in circumfer- 
ence, and two thousand feet deep. In 1834 the river of lava 
ran nine miles, and radiated a heat which was felt at Sor- 
rento — eighteen miles distant. In 1850 Bosco Reale was 
overwhelmed ; and the large and beautiful ilexes which 
shaded the village, as soon as the fiery flood enveloped them/ 
with sudden explosions burst into columns of flame. In 1855 
the current of lava descended ten miles into the plain, destroy- 
ing vineyards and houses in its course; and there it lies 
now — jagged, and rusty, and streaked with sulphur — like a 
vast furrow ploughed up by confederate thunderbolts. For an 
account of this eruption the reader is referred to an extract 
from the manuscript notes of an eye-witness, in " Reflected 
Fragments/' by the Other Side of the House. 

iEtna and Vesuvius are two hundred miles apart. It is a 
remarkable fact, that when the former is in eruption, the 
latter is perfectly tranquil ; and, when the eruption ceases, 
immediately resumes its action. It is equally remarkable, 
that before the first great eruption of Vesuvius of which we 
have any account, Ischia and the Solfatara — twenty or thirty 
miles distant — were both active volcanoes; but since the 
internal fires found vent in Vesuvius, they have been con- 
stantly dormant ; though the Solfatara is always steaming, 
and gives out an unusual volume of vapor when the old 
monarch slumbers. These facts indicate a subterranean con- 



MOUNT VESUVIUS. 189 

nection. All southern Italy, indeed, seems to be volcanic, 
and the mountain range which runs through its centre is 
probably but the vaulted covering to a vast furnace of fire. 

The view from the top of Vesuvius is inconceivably fine ; 
including Naples, with its unrivalled bay; the bold head- 
lands of Posilipo and Miseno ; the beautiful islands of Pro- 
cida, Ischia, and Capri; the broad expanse of the blue 
Mediterranean beyond ; and the vast prospect of the Cam- 
pagna, enclosed with mountains, mantled with vineyards, 
and dotted over with numerous towns and villages. It is 
all bright and be-autiful now ; but who knows how soon the 
fair scene may be buried again in ashes, and the villages 
that are climbing the mountain-side swept down by floods 
of fire ? 

We returned as far as the Hermitage, which is about mid- 
way up the mountain, and then took the new road, con- 
structed upon a lofty and narrow ridge of lava, which runs 
directly down toward Naples, with a deep gulf on either 
side. The road is exceedingly fine, and winds to and fro 
along the summit of the elevation like a great serpent, in 
the most regular and beautiful manner, through terraced 
vineyards, and gardens, and groves of golden fruit. Resum- 
ing our carriage at Resina, we reached our hotel in Naples 
about half-past six in the evening, having been absent ten 
hours and a half — all thoroughly fatigued with the trip, but 
a thousand times repaid for the toil. 

Some writers and tourists in Italy have spoken of Vesu- 
vius in language of great disrespect ; and so, I am sorry to 
say, did one of our own company, when we were standing upon 
the brink of the crater. Horace Binney "Wallace, an Amer- 
ican poet, calls it " an accursed monstrosity" — " a vision 
of the second death" — "a fetid cancer upon the breast 
of earth" — " a raw and open ulcer threatening its destruc- 
tion" — "a black bosom in which sensual passion has 



190 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

burnt itself to exhaustion" — " the parched shore of the 
ever-absorbing and ever-empty sea of annihilation" — " cov- 
ered with brilliant knoblike blossoms, the sulphurous flowers 
of hell !" Madame de Stael, in Corinne, says that it is 
" nature committing suicide" — that the lava is " of such a 
lurid tint as might represent infernal fire," advancing with 
"the united strength and cunning of a great serpent/' 
or of " a tiger that steals upon his prey" — that the rocks at 
the source of the flood are " covered with pitch and sulphur 
whose colors might suit the home of fiends, forming to the 
eye a dissonance like that which the ear would experience 
if pierced by the harsh cries of witches conjuring down the 
moon from heaven," furnishing " all the materials of the 
poets' portraitures of hell," suggesting "a power of evil 
that labors to thwart the designs of Providence," and. 
starting the inquiry "whether goodness presides over the 
phenomena of the universe, or some hidden principle forces 
nature like her sons into ferocity." 

All this is to me as "revoltingly beautiful," as "dis- 
gustingly splendid," as to one of these authors was the 
aspect of Vesuvius. It is a libel upon the character of the 
volcano, and an unworthy reflection upon the benevolence 
of the Creator. To me, the variegated and blended hues 
of the crater were exceedingly beautiful, while its form and 
action were incomparably sublime. The scene thrilled me 
with ineffable pleasure, and gave me new and delightful 
thoughts of the power of God and the glory of his works. 
One of our party, after descending, said he felt as if he had 
been in the infernal regions ; for my part, I felt as if I had 
been somewhat nearer heaven. The smoke and fire made 
me think of Moses upon " the Mount of God," while the 
glorious prospect that lay spread out beneath and around 
reminded me of his Pisgah-view of the Promised Land. 
One of the writers referred to above says he cares not " to 



MOUNT VESUVIUS. 191 

see such a thing again in this world/' and prays that ho 
" may never see any thing like it in the next." For my 
part, I should like to see it once a week as long as I live ; 
and daily, while we remained at Naples, the first thing I did 
after leaving my chamber in the morning, and the last 
before retiring at night, was to take a look at Vesuvius. 



v 



192 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE BURIED CITIES. 

MUSEO B0RB0NIC0 WORKS OP ART DOMESTIC ARTICLES HERCULA- 

NEUM THE THEATRE "NEW EXCAVATION"— POMPEII TEMPLES 

"STREET OF ABUNDANCE" THEATRE MISCELLANEOUS OBJECTS 

VIA APPIA VILLA OF DIOMEDE. 

Taking the advice of Francis, Murray, and others, we 
visited the Museo Borbonico, the Royal Museum of Naples, 
preparatory to an excursion to the Buried Cities. Here is a 
large collection of curious and interesting things, found 
during the excavation of Herculaneum and Pompeii — illus- 
trating more perfectly than any history could do it, the 
manners and customs of the ancient times. The first hall 
we entered contained frescoes, transferred from the disin- 
terred walls. Some of these are indeed wonderful produc- 
tions, considering the age in which they were executed, and 
the centuries they have lain concealed in their lava shrouds ; 
and, even independently of these circumstances, many of 
them are intrinsically interesting as works of art. There are 
already nearly two thousand objects, and the number is con- 
stantly increasing as the excavations progress. Pew of the 
subjects of these paintings are historical; many are natural, 
and more are mythological. The last seems to have been 
the favorite department of the Pompeian and Herculanean 
artists, and nearly all their larger works consist of delinea- 



THE BURIED CITIES. 193 

tions of the more sentimental scenes of mythological litera- 
ture. Some of the best pieces are Hercules strangling the 
serpent, Telephus nursed by the hind, Theseus killing the 
centaur, Iphigenia borne to the altar, Ariadne abandoned at 
Naxos, Polyphemus receiving a repulsive letter from Gala/tea, 
Achilles delivering Briseis to the heralds of Agamemnon; 
Pylades and Orestes conducted in chains to the sacrifice; 
and then there are the love-bargain, the rope-dancers, the 
thirteen Danzatrici, a lady at the toilette, a blind man led by 
a dog, fruits and flowers, birds and fishes, men and donkeys, 
temples and landscapes, battles and festivals, with other 
objects too numerous to mention, but too curious not to be 
observed. 

From this we passed to the galleries of sculpture, occupy- 
ing three large porticoes, six smaller apartments, a cabinet, 
an ante-room, and a spacious open court. Our hasty walk 
through this rich storehouse of beauty was, of course, insuf- 
ficient for any adequate impression of its details; and select- 
ing such objects as seemed most worthy of our attention, we 
were obliged to pass the rest with the briefest side-glance. 
Of equestrian statues, those of the Balbi — father and son — 
found in the Basilica of Herculaneum, are the most remark- 
able. The Farnese Minerva, a colossal figure in Parian 
marble, cost nearly forty thousand dollars, yet it does not 
appear at all conspicuous in the collection. The Farnese 
Bacchus is exquisitely graceful; and the Wounded Grladi- 
ator, and the sitting statue of Agrippina, are scarcely sur- 
passed in their kind. The Venus Callipyge stands like a 
queen amid a crowd of Venuses. The busts are innumerable 
— busts of gods and goddesses, of poets, sages, orators and 
emperors. To describe minutely one in fifty would be to 
write a volume, and a mere catalogue could not be very 
edifying to the reader. 

The ancient bronzes constitute the largest and finest col- 
9 



194 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

lection in the world, occupying some nine or ten spacious 
rooms, and most of them found at Herculaneum and Pom- 
peii. A statue of Mercury in repose, from the former, has 
been pronounced the most perfect in existence. A sleeping- 
fawn, a dancing fawn, a drunken fawn, six statues of 
actresses, found in the theatre at Herculaneum, busts of 
three of the Ptolomies with diadems, of Plato, Berenice, and 
Scipio Africanus, are among the chief beauties of this incom- 
parable collection. Bronze seems to have been the common 
metal of the ancients, answering nearly all the purposes for 
which we now employ iron. Here is one room occupied 
entirely with cooking utensils — pans, skillets, kettles, egg- 
boilers — all of bronze, lined with silver, and many of them 
filled with lava. Here is a Pompeian cooking-stove, which 
would afford an interesting study for a New England genius, 
and which any modern housewife might deem an acquisition. 
Another room is full of weights, scales and measures, candel- 
abra, and so on, many of them of the most curious and 
fanciful construction. Another contains vessels and instru- 
ments of sacrifice — knives, hooks, plates, braziers, tripods, 
caldrons, and altars. And" then there are the weapons of 
the warrior, strangely grouped with the tools of the citizen 
and the husbandman — the sword hanging with the carpen- 
ter's saw, and the spear with the vine-dresser's knife. 
There was the helmet of the soldier whose skeleton was 
found guarding the gate of Pompeii, where he had stood 
1678 years — the helmet and nothing else ! And there were 
musical instruments, surgical instruments, and the gambler's 
cards and dice, with the stylus and tablets of the scribe. 
And there were nails, and locks, and keys, and thimbles, and 
needles, and bodkins, and tickets for the theatre, and nice 
little soap dishes for the toilette, and tiny pots of whiting 
and rouge for the necks and cheeks of Pompeian beauty. 
The sixth and seventh chambers contain a hetereogeneous 



THE BURIED CITIES. 195 

assemblage of the most recently discovered articles — kitchen 
furniture, bathing vessels, the tools of all arts and occupa- 
tions under the sun ; most of them as ingenious in contriv- 
ance, and as convenient for use, as any thing of the kind 
now found in France, England, Grermany, or America; and 
some of our party were constantly exclaiming, " The nine- 
teenth century has nothing better than this \" 

Then we came to the cabinet of gems, containing all the 
articles of jewelry found in the buried cities. Here is a 
wonderful collection of gold and precious stones, a large 
proportion of which was taken from the house of Diomede at 
Pompeii. Here are earrings, pendants, brooches, bracelets, 
and necklaces, all of the costliest gems, set in the finest 
gold. Some of the golden bands for the wrists and ankles, 
I should judge, would weigh two or three pounds a pair. 
"We saw rings still upon the fingers, just as they were found; 
and one large case is filled with rings recently taken from 
the fingers that wore them two thousand years ago. The 
hand of a woman, grasping a purse of money, retains its per- 
fect shape, though charred by volcanic fire. Of cameos, en- 
taglios, and the like, there seemed to be no end. A single 
onyx, six inches or more in diameter, carved with the most 
curious devices, is said to be worth every thing else in the 
collection. Then there were spoons, forks, knives, plates, 
silver kettles, and elegantly engraven mirrors. And there 
were figs, olives, walnuts, lentiles, barley, rice, and wheat, 
and seeds of various sorts, all completely calcined. And 
there were corks and sponges, nets, ropes, and linen clothes, 
in the same condition ; but showing distinctly their texture, 
and giving us an insight of the household economy of a for- 
mer age. And there were paints, and oils, and dyes, and 
chalk, and soap, and putty, and white lead, still in the glass 
jars in which they were exposed for sale. And there were 
bottles of wine, not easy to drink at present, and loaves of 



196 A YEAR IN EUROPE, 

bread stamped with the baker's name, and meats and vege- 
tables in the pot, which the red lava finished cooking, when 
it roasted the cook in his kitchen. One very interesting 
object was a large piece of cloth, of very coarse texture, not 
■unlike American tow-cloth, which, we were assured, was 
asbestos, found near a tomb, and used for wrapping the body 
when it was burned, in order to preserve the ashes. 

The collection of ancient medals, numbering fifty thou- 
sand, and the terra cotta articles, amounting to six thousand, 
and the curious hall of mosaics, and the fine array of sepul- 
chral vases, and the incomparable assemblage of antiquities 
from the Nile, these, " all and sundry," we passed unseen 
for want of time. Nor is it to be much regretted that we 
could not even look into one of the fourteen rooms of paint- 
ings, when we remember how useless is the hasty examina- 
tion which the tourist usually bestows upon such produc- 
tions; for it has been truly said, that " He who has seen but 
one work of ancient art has seen none, and he who has seen 
a thousand has seen but' one." 

Having examined the Museum, we were now ready for a 
survey of the buried cities, whence most of its treasures 
were taken. The sun rose, wreathed with smoke, over the 
cone of Vesuvius, as we rushed merrily along the curving 
shore toward the scene of his triumph, seventeen hundred 
and seventy-eight years before, over the pride and the power 
of man. Three quarters of an hour brought us to the royal 
villa at Portici, a handsome building, with fine gardens and 
shrubbery. It spans the street, and you pass through its 
court on your way to Vesuvius. One of its rooms is inlaid 
with porcelain, representing flowers, fruits, birds, and various 
animals, copied chiefly from frescoes found in Herculaneum. 
In another department were formerly deposited the various 
interesting objects taken from the buried cities; but, as they 
increased in number, the place became "too strait" for 



THE BURIED CITIES. 197 

them, and they were removed to the Royal Museum in 
Naples. The palace contains some fine paintings and 
statues ; which, however, we did not tarry to examine, for a 
vast city lay beneath, and we were anxious to explore its 
subterranean halls. 

Herculaneum was destroyed in the seventy-ninth year of 
the Christian era, when Titus was on the imperial throne, 
not by a flood of fire, but by a torrent of volcanic mud, 
which rolled down the mountain-side, filled and covered all 
its houses, and afterwards hardened into stone. Subsequent 
eruptions buried it still deeper beneath alternate strata 
of ashes and lava, till it lay eighty feet under the surface. 
Its name and catastrophe were too well recorded to be for- 
gotten ; but its site, though marked out by the ancients with 
tolerable precision, was a subject of debate among the 
learned, till an accident determined the controversy. Near 
the beginning of the last century, a peasant, sinking a well 
in his garden, found several fragments of marble. Excava- 
tions were now instituted, and a marble temple was disco- 
vered, adorned with the finest statues. Then the Neapoli- 
tan government interposed, and all further investigation was 
suspended for the next twenty years. At the end of this 
period, the ground was purchased, and a palace built upon it 
for the king. How much better it would have been to 
order extensive excavations, and lay open to public in- 
spection the buried glories of antiquity ! But such is a 
specimen of royal stupidity. 

More recently, however, other openings have been made 
in the tufa; but more for the purposes of gain than of a 
liberal curiosity. A basilica has been discovered, two tem- 
ples, and a theatre ; all of which have been stripped of their 
numerous pillars and statues, and nothing has been left that 
could be turned into money. Streets have been opened, 
well paved, with sidewalks; and private houses, and sepul- 



198 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

ehral monuments, have been explored, and rifled of their 
treasures. Columns of marble and alabaster, numerous 
bronze statues, paintings and mosaics, many of them per- 
fectly preserved, others fractured and damaged, have been 
brought up from their dark concealment; with various 
pieces of armor, articles of jewelry, chirurgical and agricul- 
tural instruments, kitchen utensils and domestic furniture. 
But the most curious and valuable things found in this sub- 
terranean city were the manuscripts, Greek and Latin, 
which had slept here for so many centuries. It was impos- 
sible to recover them uninjured, and many of them were 
totally ruined in the process of unrolling. Hundreds and 
hundreds have been obtained, but the excavations are as yet 
very limited and partial, and who can tell what literary trea- 
sures — what extensive libraries — lie yet entombed in these 
beds of tufa ? Perhaps some future excavator may be for- 
tunate enough to find here some of those great works of 
antiquity, the loss of which has been so long lamented — the 
books wanting in Tacitus, the Decades of Titus Livius, the 
treatise of Cicero De Gloria, or his dialogues De Republica, 
that grand repository of all the political wisdom of the 
ancients. But royalty moves slowly, and Herculaneum must 
bide her time. 

The entrance to the buried city is from the main street of 
Resina. The guide furnished each of us with a light, and 
then led the way down a dark staircase hewn in the solid 
lava. We soon came to the area of the great theatre, larger 
than any modern theatre of Europe. There were the semi- 
circular seats, cut in the everlasting travertine, and rising 
one above another like a flight of steps. The walls, pillars, 
and arches which are laid bare display occasional patches of 
frescoes, mosaics, and inscriptions, though most of these or- 
naments have been removed to the Royal Museum. The 
orchestra is very spacious, affording ample room for more 



THE BURIED CITIES. 199 

than a hundred musicians. We went " behind the scenes/' 
and stood upon the stage, where the actors strutted in mimic 
royalty, or fumed and fainted with counterfeit passion, two 
thousand years ago. We entered the " G-reen Room/' 
where we saw the impress of a comic mask in the volcanic 
stone ; and where, when the place was first opened, were 
found inscriptions relating to the erection of the theatre, 
and recording the names of the architects, and of the cen- 
sor and judge at whose expense it was built. From this 
great theatre were taken the fine equestrian statues of the 
Balbi, mentioned in my account of the Museo Borbonico. 
While there we heard the thunder of the carriages upon the 
paved street above us, faintly representing the terrific noises 
which accompanied the catastrophe of the city. For a long 
time past there have been no new excavations in this direc- 
tion, and probably it will be a long time before there will be 
any more ; for the depth and hardness of the tufa renders it 
very laborious, and the property above is deemed too valua- 
ble to be endangered. It is a pity, however, that the streets 
and buildings formerly opened should be filled up again 
with the rubbish of more recent excavations; but such is 
the characteristic indolence of Italian laborers, and such the 
vandal indifference of those who have charge of the work. 

Having explored these interesting vaults, we retraced our 
steps, up the dark staircase, into the light of day. The 
next thing to be seen was the " New Excavation/' near the 
sea-shore, where several houses have been opened, and a 
villa of large extent. These, having been buried to no very 
great depth, are completely uncovered to the sun. There 
were walls, and pillars, and frescoed chambers, and mosaic 
pavements, in a wonderful state of preservation. There was 
an inn, with some of its ancient amphorsc — or wine-jugs — 
still remaining; but the vessels were empty, and barkeeper 
and landlord and guest were gone. There was a chapel, 



200 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

with its altar still standing, as if awaiting the victim and 
the priest; a prison, in whose dark cells skeletons were 
found sitting in the stocks ; and a well, whose marble curb 
is grooved by the chain of the bucket. In various places in 
the walls, and over the doorways and windows, the remains 
of the woodwork were visible, reduced to charcoal by the 
intense heat of the fire-torrents which rolled over them 
long after the original deluge of mud and ashes. There is a 
flower-garden within the enclosure of the villa, not quite so 
well kept as it was by its ancient proprietor ; and we plucked 
roses, and wall-flowers, and sweet-scented violets, from amid 
the ruins. 

From Herculaneum we drove to Pompeii. The distance 
is about seven miles — perhaps fourteen from Naples. Our 
road lay along the margin of the bay, at the base of Mount. 
Vesuvius, crossing numerous beds of lava, poured out at 
different periods, running in vast ridges down the mountain- 
side, and here and there jutting far out into the sea. We 
passed through Torre del Grreco and Torre del Annonciata — 
towns, each of about fifteen thousand inhabitants. They 
have both been several times destroyed by eruptions, evi- 
dences of which are everywhere apparent. Many of the 
present houses are built upon the lava which buried the old ; 
and others, which were not entirely covered, were so sur- 
rounded by the rolling mass, that they are now entered at 
the second story, and the way into one of the churches is 
through the great window over the ancient door. It was a 
festa day ; and the air was musical with the voice of bells ; 
and men, women, and children thronged the streets, the neat 
and gayly-dressed mingling with the ragged and filthy rab- 
ble that swarm in all Italian towns ; and the places of wor- 
ship were so thronged, that the kneeling crowds overflowed 
at the portals, and down the broad steps into the public 
ways ; for there were relics to he shown ! 



THE BURIED CITIES. 201 

Reaching the little inn at Pompeii, we took a hasty lun- 
cheon ; and then one of the government guides conducted 
us through the "Sea Grate/' into the silent city. It was 
with a feeling like that which one experiences on entering a 
vast cemetery by moonlight, that I first looked along the de- 
serted streets, and the walls of palaces and temples, parched 
by volcanic fire — a pale ghost of the mighty past — a dead 
city, untimely disinterred from its ashy sepulchre ! Pompeii 
was destroyed not by a stream of lava, or a deluge of mud, 
but by showers of ashes and pumice-stone, the loose nature 
of which rendered its excavation comparatively an easy 
work ; and many of its streets and forums, dwellings and 
theatres, laid entirely open to the day, sun themselves amid 
vineyards and flowery fields — a pleasant contrast to the 
darkly-buried Herculaneum. 

The largest temple, and the first shown us, was that of 
Venus. It consists of an area paved with marble, surround- 
ed by a portico, and having at one end a raised platform, 
with an altar upon it, and rooms in the rear for the priests. 
Near this" is a spacious forum, also paved with marble, and 
showing the bases of several statues. At its northern end 
is the temple of Jupiter, raised upon a lofty basement, 
having a portico of Corinthian pillars, some small chambers 
at one extremity, and part of a staircase that led to an 
upper story. Then we cam.e to the temple of Augustus, 
called also the Pantheon, in which was found the statue of 
Augustus, with the statues of Livia and her son Drusus, 
now in the Neapolitan Museum. It was built around an 
atrium or court, in the midst of which are twelve pedestals 
arranged in a circle, and believed to have sustained the sta- 
tues of twelve divinities, and on the south side are twelve 
small chambers for the twelve priests. 

We passed through a long street, sometimes called " the 
Street of Abundance," from a statue of that goddess .which 
9* 



202 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

was found at one end of it; and sometimes "the Street of 
the Silversmiths/' from the quantities of jewelry discovered 
in its houses. The buildings are nearly all of the same size 
and form, and painted in the same manner. They were 
chiefly of one story, built around an open court. The 
apartments, especially the sleeping-rooms, were very small. 
Some of the frescoes and mosaics were beautiful, and in a 
good state of preservation. In this street are several large 
fountains or reservoirs, evidently intended for public use. 
At one end of it was found a skeleton with a sack, con- 
taining a large number of silver coins, with some of bronze 
and gold. 

The theatre, which was found entire, lies fairly open to 
the day; but its statues and other ornaments have all been 
removed to the metropolis. It stood on the slope of the hill 
facing the bay, the stage and the orchestra being at the foot, 
and the seats rising in semicircular ranges up the acclivity. 
The seats were divided and numbered, and it is calculated 
that five thousand people could have found accommodation 
there. It was well furnished with means of ingress and of 
egress ; and as it was without a roof, there was no want of 
ventilation; and the audience might enjoy a glorious view 
of the outspread waters before them, with Stabiae and Sur- 
rentum beyond, and the mountain heights of the promon- 
tory, while they sat witnessing the play. 

We now passed through several streets, visiting numerous 
shops and dwellings, some of them quite remarkable for 
their contents and decorations. There were stores for wine 
and oil, with the great earthen vessels still standing, in 
which those things were kept. There were restaurants and 
baker-shops, with ovens and flour-mills exactly like those 
now used in Naples and Rome. There was the custom-house, 
where weights and measures were found, and a great pair of 
scales. There was a basilica, with a raised tribune for the 



THE BURIED CITIES. 203 

judges, and dungeons beneath for criminals. There were 
the barracks, with the names and jests of the soldiers 
scribbled on the walls, as fresh as if it had been done but 
yesterday. There were the public baths, with all the appur- 
tenances of such an institution complete, and separate apart- 
ments for hot water and cold. Men evidently shaved in 
those days, for there was the barber-shop, though its occu- 
pant appeared to have stepped out for a moment or two. 
Two houses, standing side by side, were remarkable for their 
beautiful fountains, with large semicircular niches fronting 
the atriums, and elaborately ornamented with mosaics, shell- 
work, bas-reliefs, and statuary. In many of these places, 
when they were opened, skeletons were discovered, with 
coins of various metals, and quantities of gems and gold. 

The Via Appia runs through the centre of the city. It is 
rather narrow, but has sidewalks three feet wide, and 
elevated about twenty inches above the central pavement. 
The stones are worn into deep ruts by the wheels, about four 
feet apart ; showing that the carriages of the Pompeians were 
much narrower than ours, and that they generally kept the 
same line. We passed through this street, leaving the city 
at the " Porta Herculanea." Here was found the skeleton 
of a soldier who was on guard when the fiery tempest came 
down, and here he had stood at his post nearly two thousand 
years. Some distance without the gate, on the Street of 
Tombs, is the superb villa of Diomede — the largest and finest 
establishment hitherto discovered, and which has furnished 
more than any other of the curiosities and works of art now 
in the museum at Naples. Close by the garden-gate were 
found the skeletons of the master and an attendant — the one 
grasping a key, the other a purse of gold. In the vaulted 
basement, whither the household seem chiefly to have fled 
for shelter, seventeen skeletons were discovered, principally 
of women and children ; and on the side of one of the subter- 



204 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

ranean passages is still to be seen, as distinct as if painted 
there, the outline of the nurse's form, with an infant in her 
arms. 

But -what avail such details ? The reader must see and 
survey these ruins for himself. He must walk these silent 
streets, and enter these tenantless houses, before he is pre- 
pared to appreciate any description of them from another. 
We spent four or five hours here, but needed as many days. 
As we wandered about, it seemed difficult to realize that 
Pompeii had been hidden under ground for so many centu- 
ries; and at every corner I almost expected to see some old 
Roman patrician sweep by in his toga, or hear the children 
chattering Latin to one another in their sports. But all 
around is silence — the silence not of solitude and repose, 
but of devastation and death — the silence of a great city 
without a single inhabitant; and there, hanging its white 
signal-vapor in the sapphire sky, stands the destroyer, look- 
ing down upon the destroyed ! 



THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 205 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 

NOCERA— LA CAVA — BEAUTIFUL SCENERY — THE CONVENT — CHARMING 

DRIVE AMALFI — ITS HISTORY — BEGGARS AND BEGGING —r WILD 

NIGHT-SCENE — MONTE SANT ANGELO — COURAGE, MACCARONI, AND 
CHEESE GLORIOUS PROSPECT CASTELLAMARE PLAIN OP SOR- 
RENTO — THE TOWN AND ITS ANTIQUITIES — POETIC CURIOSITY. 



Know ye the land of the cypress and vine, 

"Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; 

Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfumo, 

Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gull* in their bloom ; 

Where the citron and orange are fairest of fruit, 

And the voice of the nightingale never is mute; 

Where the tints of the earth and the hues of the sky, 

In color though varied, in beauty may vie, 

And the purple of ocean is deepest in dye; 

Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, 

And all but the spirit of man is divine? 

Bride op Abydos. 

We had communed with the ghost of antiquity in the 
dark vaults of Herculaneum. We had wandered many 
hours through the silent streets of Pompeii, amid ruined 
palaces and theatres, forums and temples, baths and tombs. 
To this dreary and deathlike solitude, the bustle of a railway 
station and the rapid motion of the train afforded a refresh- 
ing contrast ; and as we rushed past villa and vineyard up 

* The rose. 



206 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the sweet valley of the Sarno, it was delightful to find our- 
selves once more surrounded by the realities of the living 
world. 

A visit to Pestum, the brief time we had allotted ourselves 
would not allow us to enjoy; but we determined to see all 
we could of Southern Italy, especially of the classical localities 
and incomparable scenery of the Salernian and Sorrentine 
coasts. It was nearly sunset when we left the little inn at 
Pompeii; and before we reached the railroad terminus at 
Nocera, the gray evening had mantled the plain, and hung 
a soft veil over the mountains. It was a festa day in honor 
of some one or other of the saints, and had been worthily 
kept by the agents and drivers of the various public vehicles. 
Powerfully wrought the spirit that was in them, and bravely 
did they contend for the privilege of conveying us to La 
Cava. The Italians always talk louder than any other peo- 
ple, and an extra glass amazingly augments their vocal 
powers. They surrounded us like a pack of hungry wolves, 
yelling like panthers, and fighting like tigers. The ladies 
were not a little frightened, and I know not what would have 
been the result, had not a stalwart policeman come in good 
time to our rescue. He stalked in among the rabble like a 
Hercules, smiting right and left with his ponderous mace. 
A peace was soon conquered, and through the imperfect 
Italian of Mr. Hall — the standing spokesman of our party — 
We were enabled to bargain for a ride to La Cava. Six car- 
lini, without " buona mano," was the stipulation, thrice 
repeated. Away we went, as if flying from the wrath of 
Vesuvius. Our carriage was as crazy as the drunken driver, 
yet it would have tried the railroad locomotive to keep 
our company. Half an hour's race, and we were at our 
hotel ; but here occurred a scene demanding the pen of a 
Dickens. Mr. Hall offers veturino his fee — veturino starts 
back in astonishment — insists on a piastre, with buona 



THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 207 

inano — is reminded of the contract — declares it is too little 
— will have more or none — dashes the money upon the pave- 
ment — raves — threatens — curses the foreigners — is suddenly 
left to his own reflections — quietly picks up the discarded 
coin, mounts his box in the most exemplary manner, and 
manifestly molto contento drives away. Such is a specimen 
of the scenes we witnessed almost every day in Italy. An 
Italian is never satisfied with what he receives, though it be 
all that he at first demanded, and twice the worth of the ser- 
vice rendered, so long as he deems it possible to get an 
additional grano. 

We had a comfortable supper, and a refreshing sleep. 
When we rose in the morning, we found ourselves in a 
charming villa, surrounded with a luxuriant lemon grove. 
The scenery was altogether of a different character from any 
we had seen before. Behind us towered the majestic Fenes- 
tra, far into the turquoise firmament ; while before us many 
an isolated cone shot up from the loveliest of valleys, clothed 
with forests of oak and chestnut, and crowned with grand old 
ruins. These were the scenes that inspired the genius and 
formed the taste of Salvator Bosa. 

La Cava seems to be a thriving little town, but claims no 
classical antiquity. It dates from the invasion of G-enseric, 
and was formed gradually by the attraction of a rich Bene- 
dictine abbey. When the neighboring town of Marciana 
was destroyed, its dispersed inhabitants took shelter in the 
mountains, settled around the monastery, and subsequently 
built La Cava. The convent is beautifully situated on a 
lofty sandstone cliff, and is approached by a steep winding 
path through a shady copse. A stream brawls below, which 
the fratti have widened into a small lake under the very 
walls, where fish are fattened for the frying-pan. In a deep 
recess of the . chapel lies the body of Alpherius, the first 
abbot, whom the inscription on his tomb declares to have 



208 . A YEAR IN EUEOPE. 

died at the " good old age" of a hundred and twenty years. 
Here is one of the finest organs in Italy, containing, they 
say, six thousand pipes; a number which appears incredible! 

But what of Nocera? The dusty evening, and the civil 
war that raged around us, allowed us to see but little of it ; 
we saw, however, that it was without walls, and scattered 
over an extensive area — more like an American town than 
an Italian. It is a place of great antiquity, remarkable for 
its constant loyalty to Rome, and the misfortunes which 
have befallen it in consequence of that loyalty — first, the 
vengeance of Hannibal, by whom it was sacked and de- 
stroyed; afterward, the fury of Ruggiero, king of Naples, 
who razed its walls to the ground, and dispersed its citizens 
over the campagna. It is still called Nocera dei Pagani — 
Nocera of the Pagans — from the circumstance of its having 
been once a long time in possession of the Saracens. Judg- 
ing from that evening's demonstration of its character, the 
appellation seems quite appropriate; yet not more so, per- 
haps, than to most other towns of Southern Italy. Mrs. 
Eaton, in her work on Rome, observes, that artistic repre- 
sentations of God in the churches are less frequent than 
those of the saints, simply because he is not so much wor- 
shipped as they. If there is no idolatry now in Italy, there 
was none in the days of Cassar or Porsenna ! 

Breakfast, settlement, and vettura for Amalfi. Our road 
wound down a valley scarcely surpassed in Paradise. On 
one side the terraced mountain was covered with tropical 
fruit-groves; and on the other, the sparsely wooded slope 
was matted with primroses and violets, among which the 
nightingales sang divinely. Shortly the valley opened upon 
the fine bay of Salerno, and Vietri at our feet overhung the 
purple waves. Here the road turns westward, over a deep 
gulf, toward the Promontory of Minerva and the Isles of the 
fabled Syrens. The mountains before us rose abruptly from 



THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 209 

the edge of the water; here jutting out in a hold precipice, 
and there retiring in a wild ravine. Our road, than which 
there is no better in Italy, was cut through the solid rock, 
and followed the irregularities of the shore ; now running 
along the verge of the cliff, and then crossing a deep chasm 
upon a series of lofty arches. Towns and villages looked 
down from, dizzy heights upon us as we passed, or hung 
upon the precipices beneath us, as if meditating a plunge 
into the sea. Wherever a terrace was possible, the rocky 
steeps were green with olives, or golden with lemons. The 
sky was clear as sapphire, the sea was blue as lapis lazuli, 
and at every turn in the road some new beauty broke upon 
our sight, thrilling our hearts with a strange, unwonted joy. 
Never, till all earthly impressions perish, can the memory 
of that morning be effaced from my soul ! 

But here is Amalfi, with its little patch of snowy beach, 
its boats drawn up upon the sand, and its brawny fisher- 
men spreading their nets in the sun. The town lies at the 
mouth of a deep gorge in the mountains, through which a 
torrent rushes into the sea. The Hotel of the Capuchins, at 
whose base beats the Mediterranean surf, is to be our tempo- 
rary "Alabama." The scenery of Amalfi is famous through- 
out the world. I will attempt no description. There is 
nothing equal to it but the maccaroni which we ate for 
dinner. The article is produced here in great abundance; 
and after visiting several of the large manufactories, we sat 
down to feast upon it with a new relish. The crypt of the 
cathedral is said to contain the body of Saint Andrew, 
brought hither from Constantinople in the thirteenth 
century. It is a grand old edifice, and has one of the most 
beautiful campaniles I have met with in Italy. The convent 
of the Capuecini retains its cloisters as perfect as they were 
six hundred years ago. There is a grotto hard by — a stu- 
pendous vaulted chamber jn the mountain-side — from the 



210 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

mouth of which the traveller gets one of the finest seaward 
prospects in the whole country. 

The origin of Amalfi is assigned to the fourth century. 
The legend is, that it was founded by some Roman patricians 
wrecked upon the coast. It afterward became a great city, 
the capital of a flourishing republic, the first naval power of 
Europe, the Athens of the middle ages. Here, if tradition 
is to be relied upon, was born the inventor of the mariner's 
compass. Here was preserved the first known manuscript 
of the Pandects of Justinian. Here originated the famous 
order of the Hospitallers of Saint John, afterward denomi- 
nated the Knights of Malta. In the tenth century Amalfi 
had fifty thousand inhabitants, and its dependent territory 
a hundred thousand. In the twelfth century it was taken 
by King Roger, and sacked by the Pisans, who carried off, 
and retained three hundred years, the Pandects of Justinian. 
From this disaster Amalfi never recovered. The barbarians 
overwhelmed it with double destruction, and successive vol- 
canic convulsions sank its very ruins beneath the sea. A 
solitary tower now stands upon a lofty rock, almost the only 
representative of its ancient grandeur. All else that the 
traveller sees is comparatively modern. 

As we walked about the place, we were followed by crowds 
of beggars ; and when we returned to our hotel, a large 
number of them collected upon the beach beneath the 
balcony, to whom we threw a few grani, saying : "Be ye 
warmed, be ye filled !" I have nowhere else seen so many 
of this wretched trade, as in some of those beautiful locali- 
ties of Southern Italy. The streets were thronged with 
them ; they pursued us into the churches, followed us over 
the mountains, and ran for miles by the side of our carriage, 
with ceaseless importunity and impassioned gesticulation, 
pleading for qualche cosa. I never felt so forcibly the utter 
inadequacy of a passing aid. Alas ! the very flagrancy of 



THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 211 

the case — the undisguised fact that one-third of the popula- 
tion are starving mendicants — renders habitual lookers-on 
indifferent to their needs. What is everybody's business 
is nobody's business. The public is an abstraction, and 
does not recognize the evil, though it is gnawing at the roots 
of society. The mischief is aggravated to hopelessness by 
the universal propensity for begging. The servants beg at 
the hotels; the postilions beg upon the highways; the 
woman spinning at the door rises to beg as you approach; 
the peasant laboring in the field drops his hoe, and runs to 
beg, as you pass; even the infant in its mother's arms, 
before it can utter its mother's name, learns to stretch out 
its little hand, and twist up its face into a petition, when- 
ever it sees a foreigner. The genial warmth of the climate, 
and the comparative cheapness of food, more, perhaps, than 
the perpetual influx of tourists, tend to encourage this ruin- 
ous proclivity, whose fruit is emaciation, and indolence, and 
disease, and rags. The King of Naples sees and knows it 
all; but are not the people his? and has he not a right to 
drain their money into his lotteries ? and does he not need 
the revenue to pay the soldiers that are hired to keep them 
in order ? Once more, 

• 
"Hail, Columbia, happy land!" 

Night fell over the waters. The sirocco, which had been 
blowing gently during the day, rose to the majesty of a tem- 
pest. Amid the gusty winds, the rain fell pattering against 
the window, and the surf beat heavily upon the shore. 
Through the roar of the storm we heard the faint accents of 
a single voice, apparently calling for help. Soon there were 
torches gleaming along the strand, and other voices rose 
upon the wind. Then a bonfire was kindled, in the broad 
glare of which we saw a motley crowd of both sexes ; while 
out upon the dark waters was discerned the dim outline of a 



212 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

fishing-boat, with several men in it, toiling to effect a land- 
ing. Two or three heroic fellows, stark naked, with ropes 
fastened around their waists, were endeavoring to force their 
way through the boiling surf. Several unsuccessful at- 
tempts were made, apparently with great danger, and amidst 
a mighty clamor of voices. At last the object was gained, a 
rope was carried to the boat, all hands on shore laid hold 
upon it, and with shouts of triumph drew their comrades 
far up upon the sand. It was a wild scene, and a worthy 
close to a day spent amid the most beautiful scenery^ in the 
world. 

One of the most prominent and picturesque objects in- 
cluded in a southward view from Naples is the Isle of Capri, 
lying about four miles from the point of the Sorrentine 
Promontory. To visit its far-famed Blue G-rotto, and see 
what remains of the baths and aqueducts of Augustus, and 
the Twelve Palaces of the Twelve Superior Divinities built 
by " that deified beast Tiberius," constituted one of the chief 
pleasures we had promised ourselves in a southern excur- 
sion. But after waiting twenty-four hours at Amalfi for per- 
mission of the winds and waves, the sirocco still blew, and 
the troubled sea could not rest. Thwarted in one plan, we 
were not long in projecting another. With an agreeable 
accession of three Englishmen to our party, and half-a-dozen 
Italians for an escort, making about fifteen in all, we set 
forth on donkeyback, across Monte Sant' Angelo, to the 
northern side of the promontory. The distance may be 
twenty miles; the mountain is the loftiest on the Bay of 
Naples ; and the scenery along our path, of the most varied 
and romantic character. 

For two full hours we climbed the rugged steep, chiefly 
by steps cut in the solid limestone ; often winding along the 
brink of the precipice, with a frightful gulf a thousand feet 
below; and occasionally obliged to dismount, and clamber 



THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 213 

up the rocks upon our hands and knees. At length, we 
reached the first table-land, occupied by a picturesque vil- 
lage, three thousand feet above the beach of Amalfi. Here 
our cunning escort desired to rest thirty minutes, and re- 
fresh themselves at an osteria, doubtless at our expense ; but 
the Monte Sant' Angelo still towered before us two thousand 
feet above the village, and we promptly negatived the pro- 
posal. Yet we could not help pausing a few moments to 
admire the glorious view behind us. There rolled the 
white surf three thousand feet beneath ; and green vine- 
yards and yellow orchards, interspersed with modern towns 
and ancient ruins, hung like a jewelled wreath along the 
terraced rocks. And there sat Salerno, like a little Naples, 
nestling in the curve of a charming bay, with its mountain- 
amphitheatre in the background ; while in the dim distance 
beyond were faintly seen the temples of Pestum, and the 
mountains toward Calabria, and the fair Lucanian coast. 
And there stood the myrtle-crowned Promontorium Mi- 
nervse; where, according to Seneca and Strabo, Ulysses 
erected a temple to the goddess; where, in the sixteenth 
century, Charles the Fifth built a martello tower to warn the 
inhabitants of approaching danger; and where the last 
King of Naples reared a lighthouse, which still gleams 
nightly over the waters. And there rose the three rocky 
islands, now called the Gralli, inhabited only by seafowl, and 
beaten by the eternal surf; where, as classic fable tells us, 
the Syrens lured their victims to destruction by the very 
sweetness of their songs ; where, as authentic history assures 
us, wandered the banished tyrant of Amalfi — Doge Mansone 
the third — after his brother had deprived him of his eyes ; 
and where, during the middle ages, many a criminal felt the 
republican vengeance, and expiated his oifences by a dreary 
exile and a lingering death. 

"We resume our course, and for two hours more toil up the 



214 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

mountain. It was not a little amusing to hear one of our 
English friends cheering on his jaded donkey, with the 
small stock of Italian which he had acquired, and manufac- 
tured into a couplet for the occasion : 

" Cor agio — Cor agio ! 
Maccheroni e fromagio !" 

which is, being interpreted : 

" Courage — Courage ! 
Maccaroni and cheese !" 

Some of the company seemed quite exhausted before we 
reached the summit; but once there, what a prospect re- 
warded the toil ! The bay lay spread out before us, bathed 
in as pure a light as ever fell from heaven ; and its semicir- 
cular coast, for fifty miles a string of towns and villages, in- 
terspersed with groves and gardens, seemed a colossal neck- 
lace of alternate emeralds and pearls, with Capri and Ischia 
for its golden clasps at the two extremities, and Naples and 
Vesuvius — the one a huge diamond, and the other a mon- 
ster amethyst- — for its central ornaments. Beyond this 
stretched the vast Campagna, with its boundary-wall of 
Apennines — 

"The masonry of God!" 

As we descended the mountain, I paused and gazed again 
and again upon the goodly prospect; and my soul, with un- 
speakable satisfaction, drank in full draughts of beauty. 
We passed two or three villages, picturesquely situated on 
the flanks of Sant' Angelo, with churches perched upon the 
most inaccessible heights, and old castles and towers crum- 
bling on the cliffs. It was amid these lofty solitudes that 
Salvator Rosa dwelt a long time with the brigands, enjoying 
their protection while he pursued his art. At the foot of 



THE SORRENTI-NE PROMONTORY. 215 

the mountain we entered G-ragnano — the city of rnaccaroni. 
There are no less than seventy-five large manufactories of 
this Italian indispensable in the town. Everywhere the 
yellow fringe hung on poles and lines along the streets. We 
breathed rnaccaroni ; and the very houses, as we looked into 
them,- seemed built of that material. 

Two miles farther we came to Castellamare. Stabias, 
which once flourished here, was destroyed by Sylla. In 
Pliny's time the place was occupied by the villas of several 
Roman patricians, attracted hither by the fame of its mine- 
ral waters, and by its salubrious climate. Pomponianus was 
sojourning or residing here when the first great eruption of 
Vesuvius occurred, in the year seventy-nine. The elder 
Pliny, then in charge of the Roman fleet lying at Misenum, 
came in a galley to aid his friend's escape. Such, however, 
was the darkness, and such the agitation of the water, that 
they dared not put to sea. With pillows upon their heads, 
to protect them from the falling stones, they retired along 
the shore. Pire and vapor frequently burst up from the 
ground around them ; and Pliny, as his nephew supposes, 
was suffocated by one of these eruptions. The ruins of an- 
cient Stabise are still seen, though many of its remains are 
sunk under the sea. Castellamare was sacked in the fif- 
teenth century by Pius the Second, and again in the seven- 
teenth by the Due de Guise. It is now a flourishing town, 
and a popular summer resort of the Neapolitans, and of 
invalid forestieri; who come hither for its incomparable 
climate, and its twelve medicinal springs. 

At this place we discharged our donkeys and escort ; and 
after the usual quarrel about buona mano, engaged a vettura 
for a piastre to take us to Sorrento. The distance is nine 
miles ; and the road, which is an exceedingly fine one, runs 
along the brink of the precipice, several hundred feet above 



216 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the sea; crossing the ravines on tiers of lofty arches, and 
winding in and out with the indentations and projections of 
the shore. Passing several small villages^ we reached an 
elevated terrace, on the point of a small promontory, over- 
looking the Piano di Sorrento. It is a broad table-land, 
bounded on one side by the Bay of Naples, and on the 
three others by precipitous mountains, separated from it by 
a deep and narrow ravine. It is evident from the form of 
the surrounding hills, and from the nature of the soil, that 
its entire area is the bed of an ancient crater. I have never 
seen any thing comparable to it in fertility. Orange and 
lemon trees, loaded with golden fruit, overhang the road; 
the fig tree stretches out its crooked arms at the height of 
fifty or sixty feet ; the gray olive soars upward like a cypress, 
overshadowing the tallest dwellings ; while the grape-vine, 
interlacing the lofty branches, or hanging in festoons from 
tree to tree, runs riot over all. We drove into the town, 
and found a pleasant home at the Villa Nardi, embosomed 
in a dense grove of lemon, and orange, and pomegranate, on 
the very brink of the bay, whose waters chafe the base of 
the precipice three hundred feet below the walls. 

As soon as we could the next morning, we went forth on 
an exploring expedition among the antiquities of Surrentum. 
The ancient aqueduct, repaired by Antoninus Pius, still 
supplies the people with water from the mountains, and is 
remai-kable for the musical echo of its vaults. With this 
exception, there are very few remains of the former city — a 
few arches-, and grottoes, and massive substructions, which 
they call the Temple of Neptune, the Temple of Ceres, the 
Temple of the Syrens, the Caves of Ulysses, the villa of 
Pollius Felix, the shattered walls of some nameless baths, 
and the mouldering corridors of a supposed amphitheatre. 
This was the native city of Torquato Tasso, and the house in 



THE SORRENTINE PROMONTORY. 217 

which he was born is still standing, and occupied as an 
albergo. In a small piazza near the middle of the town, we 
met with a curious relic of Egyptian art — a headless kneel- 
ing statue of black marble, dating from the reign of Sethos, 
the father of Ramses the Second, more than fifteen centuries 
before the birth of Christ. Capo di Sorrento — a small 
promontory just west of the city — is covered with Roman 
remains ; foundation walls of large stone, and reticulated 
brick-work ; ruined chambers, with relics of faded frescoes 
and broken mosaics ; — extending over a large area, and visible 
beneath the transparent waves. In our walk we met men 
and women carrying large baskets of lemons and oranges 
upon their heads, and saw great heaps of the golden fruit in 
storehouses, awaiting exportation. The streets are narrow 
and dirty, and the inhabitants much like those of La Cava 
and Amain; yet Sorrento seems to be almost as much fre- 
quented now, as when the Roman patricians had their villas 
here, and Antoninus and Augustus came to inhale new 
health from its balmy climate. 

One of the greatest curiosities we saw at Sorrento was a 
piece of poetry, engraved on a slab of marble inserted in the 
outer wall of a church. The lines began and ended alter- 
nately with the words croce and cuore. The following is, as 
nearly as possible, with the preservation of the measure and 
peculiar form of the original, a literal translation : 

Cross, most adored ! to thee I give my heart : 
Heart I have not, except to love the cross. 
Cross, thou hast won my wayward, alien heart : 
Heart, thou hast owned the triumph of the cross. 
Cross, tree of life ! to thee I nail my heart : 
Heart cannot live, that lives not on the cross. 
Cross, be thy blood the cleansing of my heart : 
Heart, be thy blood an offering to the cross. 
10 



218 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Cross, thou shalt have the homage of my heart : 
Heart, thou shalt be the temple of the cross. 
Cross, blest is he who yields to thee his heart : 
Heart, rest secure, who cleavest to the cross. 
Cross, key of heaven, open every heart : 
Heart, every heart, receive the holy cross. 



A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 219 



CHAPTER XVII. 

A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 

PUNTA ' DI POSILIPO BAGNOLI NISIDA POZZUOLI MONTE NUOVO 

LAGO D'AVERNO VIEW FROM THE CLIFF CUM.E BAMS PROMON- 

TORIUM MISENUM THE SOLFATARA LAGO D'AGNANO — GROTTA DEL 

CANE — FUORIGROTTA FRIGHTFUL ASSAULT CASERTA CAPUA 

ADIEU TO NAPLES. 

The road from Naples, around the Punta di Posilijyo, to 
Bagnoli, and thence along the coast to Pozzuoli and the 
classical localities of Baiee and the Misenian Promontory, is 
full of interest to one who has an eye for the beautiful, or 
any reverence for antiquity. Who will not pause a moment 
as he passes the little church of Santa Maria, when he 
learns that it occupies the probable site of the ancient 
Pharos? The shore beyond is everywhere lined with ruins 
of Roman villas, of tombs and temples, baths and theatres. 
The tufa hills are pierced with tunnels and canals, which 
date from the days of the Emperors. The headlands and 
islands are covered with massive fragments of reticulated 
masonry. You ride over broken marbles, and prostrate 
columns look up to you from beneath the translucent waters. 
Parts of this coast seem to have sunk, submerging the relics 
of imperial grandeur in the sea ; while other portions, espe- 
cially those farther westward, have been elevated fifteen or 
twenty feet above their ancient level ; an effect nowise to be 



220 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

wondered at, when we recollect the frequent volcanic con- 
vulsions of this whole district in the twelfth and sixteenth 
centuries. 

Here is a miserable hamlet, called Bagnoli, the first we 
reach upon this classic coast. It consists of only three or 
four houses, with two warm mineral springs. This was the 
birthplace of Sebastiano Bartolo, the reputed inventor of 
the thermometer. The grand villa of Vedius Pollio was 
situated here ; and you may still see the artificial ponds, 
built of brick, and faced with pozzolana, where, according to 
Dion and Seneca, he fed his immense eels with human flesh. 
During a feast which he gave to Augustus, a slave accident- 
ally broke a valuable glass, for which his master ordered him 
to be thrown to his fishes; but the Emperor arrested the 
inhuman mandate, and directed all the glass vessels of the 
villa to be cast into the ponds instead of the slave. 

That bluff island, standing like a tower in the sea, now 
called Nisita, is the ancient Nisida. Thither Brutus fled 
after the assassination of Caesar. There he parted with his 
faithful Porcia, when he sailed for Greece. There Cicero 
conferred with Pompey, and wrote several of his letters to 
Atticus. There Lucullus had a princely villa, the ruins of 
which form the foundations of a lazzaretto and a prison. 

Our next point, and the only town on the Bay of Baise, is 
Pozzuoli, the ancient Puteoli, where Paul tarried a week on 
his way to Rome. The modern inhabitants, however, seem 
to think much more of San Genaro than of Paul. He is 
their patron god. It is a most filthy and miserable place ; 
and the people look as if they might all be bought for a 
piastre apiece ; and at half that price the purchaser would 
probably make a bad bargain. It was anciently, however, 
a town of considerable commerce, a favorite resort of the 
Roman patricians and Emperors ; and Cicero, in one of his 
orations, describes it as "a little Rome." This was the 



A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 221 

scene of the last debaucheries and miserable death of Sjlla. 
There is little now to be seen of its architectural glory. 
What Alaric and Grenseric left, was shaken to pieces by 
earthquakes, and the very fragments submerged in the 
encroaching sea. When partially restored, it was again 
spoiled by the Saracens and the Turks, and overwhelmed 
with volcanic scoria. There are two statues here, as old as 
the time of the Caesars ; albeit, one of them has lost his 
ancient head, and wears a modern substitute. Here also are 
the broken columns of the beautiful temple of Jupiter Sera- 
pis, which was one of the very finest in Italy, and perhaps 
more richly adorned with marbles and mosaics than any 
other of its age. And here are the massive Temple of Nep- 
tune, and the Temple of the Nymphs, both submarine at 
present; a temple to Juno, another to Diana, another to 
Antinous, all doubly ruined; one to Augustus, partially pre- 
served, extensively repaired, and transformed into a cathe- 
dral ; a noble amphitheatre, with baths, reservoirs, aque- 
ducts, mouldering tombs, and many nameless ruins, which 
the antiquary labors in vain to identify. A little beyond 
the town, beaten by the everlasting surf, are the remains of 
Cicero's Puteolan Villa, which he dignified with the name 
of Academic/,, and esteemed so highly for its delightful 
promenade along the shore — the place of Hadrian's burial, 
whence he was subsequently removed to his grand mauso- 
leum at Rome, the present Castel Sant' Angelo. 

Immediately on the coast, a mile and a half west of 
Pozzuoli, is Monte Nuovo, thrown up by volcanic force in 
1538. The eruption was preceded by violent convulsions, 
which upheaved the whole coast, and drove the sea " two 
hundred paces" within its ancient boundary. These were 
succeeded by a dense volume of smoke and steam. Then 
followed enormous jets of hot water and black mud, which 
fell in a destructive deluge. Next, the new crater, with 



222 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

tremendous explosive noises, cast up immense masses of red 
hot pumice, amid a cloud of fiery ashes. Some of the 
stones, which are described by two eye-witnesses as being 
" larger than an ox," were hurled a mile and a half high, 
and then fell back into the glowing orifice. The ashes 
covered the surrounding country, and were carried one hun- 
dred and fifty miles by the wind. Birds fell dead upon the 
field, suffocated by the noxious gases ; and many men and 
animals, in the immediate neighborhood of the volcano, were 
killed by the falling pumice. The eruption lasted only 
three days, but during its continuance it formed a mountain 
nearly two miles in circumference, and four hundred and 
fifty feet in altitude. As soon as it ceased, Toledo ascended 
the mountain, and found a circular crater, full of liquid fire, 
in which the stones that had fallen were boiling up as in a 
great caldron of melted metal. Since that the mountain 
has remained quiescent, and is now overgrown with trees 
and brushwood. The crater is a cavity, with steep walls, a 
quarter of a mile in circumference, and nearly as deep as the 
bottom of the mountain. 

A little farther west is the Lago d'Averno. Here is the 
Sybil's Bath, still warm and comfortable, in a dismal grotto, 
within a deeply wooded glen. It is here .ZEneas is first in- 
troduced to the prophetess, and conducted down into the 
realm of spirits. Reader, have you the curiosity or the 
courage to follow him ? Passing the outer grotto, we enter 
a dark avenue, winding under low arches. Here a stout 
Italian, in stockings such as Adam wore in Eden, takes you 
upon his back, and bears you through the tepid water into a 
gloomy chamber. The smoke of the torches, however, which 
are necessary to make the darkness visible, is not very agree- 
able to weak lungs and tender eyes. I think iEneas, with 
all the superstition of his time, must have been something 
of a hero. And did the Carthaginian general descend into 



CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 223 

this dismal hole to sacrifice to Pluto ? It is scarcely to be 
supposed that the Sybil herself dwelt perpetually in this 
pitchy night. Here is an ancient passage, now closed up by 
a mass of fallen rock, which no doubt led to better apart- 
ments. Very likely the cunning sorceress had subterranean 
galleries known only to herself and a few interested persons. 
There appears at least to have been an underground commu- 
nication with Cumse on the north, and Lake Lucrinus on 
the south. Her palace, if such it was, on the heights above 
us, is now occupied as a stable ; and if you go there to con- 
sult the oracle, you will probably get a response from a calf, 
a goat, or a donkey. Agrippa felled the surrounding forest, 
and cut a canal from Avernus to the Lucrine, and another 
thence to the Bay of Baise ; by which means the waters of 
the lakes were reduced to the level of the sea, and a spacious 
harbor formed for the Boman fleet. The eruption of Monte 
Nuovo filled up this canal, and half the Lucrine ; and where 
the ships of Agrippa once rode at anchor is now a dank 
copse of myrtles, and a marsh overgrown with reeds, and 
tenanted by innumerable wild ducks. 

From the hill above Avernus one gets a fine view of the 
queenly Cumse on its " sea-girt cliffs;" once immensely rich, 
and deemed impregnable ; now a mass of indistinguishable 
ruins. The Arco Felice was probably the gate on this side ; 
and a few columns, half buried in the soil, possibly belonged 
to the temple of Apollo. There the valiant Xenocrita won 
her immortality ; and Sempronius Tiberius Gracchus bravely 
repelled the attack of Hannibal ; and Tarquinius Superbus, 
expelled from his throne, lived and died in exile. Beyond 
is Lago di Licolo, by which Nero would have connected the 
Avernus with the distant Tiber ; and farther north, the 
Sacred Grove, celebrated for its nocturnal sacrifices, and for 
the treachery and subsequent massacre of the Campanians ; 
and still farther, the Lago di Patria, with its solitary tower, 



224 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

marking the site of Liternum, the scene of the voluntary 
exile and melancholy end of Scipio Africanus. On the 
other hand, toward the southwest, are the remains of 
Cicero's Gumsean Villa among the hills, where the orator 
received the young Octavius — the future Emperor Augus- 
tus — on his return from school in Macedonia. No traces are 
found of the villas of Varro and Seneca; but here are the 
ruins of that of Servilius Vatia, to which he retired from 
the perils of public life during the reign of Nero. And 
here is Virgil's Acheron, now called Lago cli Fusaro, sur- 
rounded with antique funereal monuments, and abounding in 
what is better — the finest oysters in Italy. You will find a 
Charon ready to ferry you, soul and body, over the flood ; 
and a pretty casino beyond, where you may dine on fish 
which you select while swimming about in their native ele- 
ment; and the accompaniment of maccaroni and genuine 
Falernian, added to the bivalvular testacea aforesaid, will 
fui'nish you a fare by no means despicable. 

Nothing could be more beautiful than the approach to 
Baiae from the Lucrine Lake. The shore is crowded with 
instructive ruins ; and masses of crumbling masonry, broken 
columns and cornices, elaborate mosaic pavements, and frag- 
ments of precious marbles, cover the hills to their summits. 
There towers the castle of Toledo over the beach, and here 
a finely paved street is visible beneath the waves. The 
palaces of Csesar and Lentulus have perished; but the Picina 
Mirabilis, built to water the Roman fleet at Misenum, still 
remains as perfect as when it was first constructed. Here 
are the hot baths of Nero, where you can get an egg boiled 
for a carlina. The Via Herculea may still be traced by the 
eye ; but the giant could not travel it now without wading 
in several feet of water. Among these shattered heaps, 
could they be identified, we might find fragments of the 
villa of Cornelia, daughter of Scipio Africanus, and mother 



A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 225 

of the Gracchi ; where, like her noble father at Internum, 
she ended her days in voluntary exile ; also of that in which 
Octavia resided after the death of Marc Antony, and her 
son Marcellus died ; and that in which Tiberius was suffo- 
cated by the captain of his Pretorians, and Nero planned the 
murder of his mother; and that in which Piso listened to 
the conspirators against the tyrant, and afterward avoided 
the imperial vengeance by suicide. The port of Misenum, 
where Augustus, Anthony, and the younger Pompey held 
their conference, is now the Mare Morto, and well deserves 
its name. Virgil's Amplum Elysium is a richly cultivated 
plain, covered with vineyards and gardens; and the road 
which runs through it is lined with ancient tombs. The 
Monte cli Procida is a noble headland, and the Promonto- 
rium Misenum rises like a pyramid from the margin of the 
sea. On its southern side is the Grotta Dragonara, a long 
and intricate subterranean passage, containing five galleries, 
with a vaulted roof resting on twelve pilasters, of which the 
origin and the use are not yet determined by the antiquaries. 
It is here that Virgil drowns the trumpeter of .ZEneas by the 
agency of a triton. This whole region is now a vast soli- 
tude, presenting a perfect contrast to its appearance in the 
days of imperial Rome, when Puteoli was the Saratoga of 
the luxurious Italians, and Baife was their Baden-Baden. 
Hither in those days resorted the wealth, the pride, and 
the beauty of the Eternal City ; wit, genius, eloquence, and 
philosophy followed ; and to popularity succeeded profligacy, 
and infamy, and ruin ! 

Just behind Pozzuoli is the old volcano, called the Solfa- 
tara. The earth is everywhere full of sulphur, and jets of 
sulphurous vapor rise from a thousand crevices. And here 
is the evident bed of the ancient crater, with the opening in 
its southeastern wall, whence flowed the fiery steam into the 
sea at the end of the twelfth century. It is a level area 
10* 



226 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

now, surrounded by broken bills, and overgrown witb myr- 
tle, and arbutos, and tbe wbite-belled heatber. Tbere is a 
place which emits a respectable volume of smoke, with a 
deep murmuring sound, when Vesuvius is clear and quiet ; 
but all this ceases as soon as the old fire-king resumes his 
action. In a neighboring ravine one hears a noise, as of 
boiling water, in the hollow caverns of the mountain; and a 
little farther down, a torrent, at boiling heat, is actually gush- 
ing from a chasm in the rock. The ground is hot, and 
resounds to tbe tread; and numerous fumeroli give out large 
quantities of sulphuretted hydrogen gas. Every thing 
betokens au abyss of fire beneath. 

A short distance to the east of the Solfatara, between it 
and the heights of Posilipo, lies the beautiful Lago 
d'Agnano, a sheet of water three miles in circumference, 
occupying the crater of an extinct volcano, and covering the 
remains of a ruined villa. The lake is alive with various 
wild-fowl, and surrounded with luxuriant vegetation ; but 
the constant exhalation of warm vapors, impregnated with 
noxious gases, generates malaria, and renders it a dangerous 
resort. 

On its banks the subterranean forces play some singular 
freaks. In the Grotta del Cane torches expire as well as 
dogs, and you cannot fire a pistol within a foot of the bottom. 
Tbe white vapor lies like a napkin extended in the air, about 
fourteen inches from the ground, supported by a layer of car- 
bonic acid gas. The deadly current flows over the thresh- 
old like a stream, and may be traced by a chemical test 
some distance along the surface of the earth. The hardiest 
terrier will not live in it more than five minutes ; and a ser- 
pent, which I believe survives longer than any other animal 
that has been tried, not more than ten. A man standing 
erect is safe, for the destructive agent does not rise above 
his knees ; but if he stoops, so as to inhale it ; he is imme- 



A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 227 

diately stupefied ; and if he dashes a handful of it up into 
his face, it produces a sensation like that of brisk soda- 
water. The grotto was once used as a place of execution for 
criminals, who were shut up within its walls, and left to die 
of suffocation. A neighboring cavern is impregnated with 
ammonia; in which, if an animal is immersed, it lives but a 
few seconds. 

Half a mile north of the Lago d'Agnano, overlooking the 
Phlegrean Fields, is Astroni, the most spacious and most 
perfect of all the volcanic craters in the district. Its rim, 
four miles in circuit, is entirely unbroken, except in one 
place", where an opening has been cut for an entrance. Its 
bottom is a beautiful park, full of stately ilexes, and encir- 
cled by a carriage drive. Here wild animals are kept for the 
sport of the royal household, and a high wall is built around 
to prevent their escape. In this grand amphitheatre Alfonso 
the First, in the fifteenth century, gave a magnificent enter- 
tainment to thirty thousand people, in honor of the marriage 
of his niece — Eleanor of Aragon — to the Emperor Frederick 
the Third. 

Returning to Naples, we pass through the village of 
Fuorigrotta — -Beyond the (xrotto — so called from its situa- 
tion with reference to the Grotta di Posilipo. Here sleeps 
the poet Giacomo Leopardi ; and a simple monument in the 
porch of the little Church of San Vitale indicates the 
place of his repose. "Qualche cosa, Signori ! Qualche 
cosa per carita ! Qualche cosa per Vamore di Dio !" 
Verily, the whole population must be lazzaroni ; and they 
are all after us, men, women, and children ! Mount, mount, 
and ride for life ! it is the only way of escape ! But in the 
dismal Grotta they overtake us; and a Qualche cosa per 
carita" with the names of "Maria Santissima," and 
"San Genaro," and every other saint in the calendar, fol- 
low us into the subterranean a, loom ! The few carlini we 



228 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

are able to spare procure us no relief. The clamor continues, 
and waxes louder as we advance, till echo makes it deafen- 
ing, and darkness makes it terrible. But here is the day- 
light again, and we escape safe to Naples. 

Ancient Capua we have not yet seen. An hour or two 
by strada /errata will take us thither. We have another 
day to spare, and how can it be better improved? Caserta 
lies in our way, and we shall see the most imposing of all 
the palaces of His Neapolitan Majesty. Well, here it is — a 
stupendous pile, uniting four cubes upon a square base, any 
one of which might serve as the abode of a king. The sur- 
rounding grounds are exceedingly fine, and afford views of 
most romantic beauty. Nothing could be more picturesque 
than the crumbling walls and bastions of the old Lombard 
city, whose isolated gables and gaunt arches, on their hill of 
emerald, admit the blue sky through the rents of ruin. 
Here is also an artificial waterfall, descending from a lofty 
ridge, over accommodating rocks, into a broad basin, full of 
disporting life. This is advantageously seen from the 
entrance of the palace, through a portico which pierces its 
entire depth, several hundred feet long. Part of the old 
feudal forest is still standing, upon the height beyond the 
ancient town; and its majestic oaks, if not the very same, 
are at least the descendants of those which flourished there 
a thousand years ago. This paradise is nearly twenty miles 
from Naples, and has long been the favorite summer resi- 
dence of the royal family. 

Farewell, Caserta ! Twenty minutes more bring us to the 
ancient city of the Vulturnum. Its modern representative 
has about twenty thousand inhabitants; but the Capua so 
wretchedly helped by Hannibal, numbered not less than 
three hundred thousand. Her ambition was her ruin, and 
her alliance with the foe of Koine brought down upon her 
the full weight of Roman vengeance. In the time of her 



A CLASSICAL EXCURSION. 229 

extremity, the Carthaginian proved "a broken reed;" and 
the conqueror, who knew no mercy, made her palaces a 
slaughter-house. After lying a long time enslaved and half- 
ruined, she found grace in the sight of the Caesars, and re- 
gained something of her former magnificence ; but the 
Goth, the Vandal, and the Lombard came, and Capua fell 
with her ancient conqueror. There are now to be traced 
the fragments of its walls, five or six miles in circuit ; with 
the towers of its seven gates, through which as many roads 
lead out in different directions to the Campania. There is 
the pavement of the Via Appia, lying through the centre of 
the ruins; and the Porta Jovis, pointing to the site of the 
temple of Jupiter on Mons Tafata. But the most remark- 
able thing there is the Amphitheatre, the oldest perhaps in 
Italy, and the pattern after which all others were modelled. 
Three of its corridors are almost perfect, and the remains of 
two more are seen beyond them. This place, according 
to Cicero, was capable of accommodating a hundred thou- 
sand spectators — more than twice the entire population of 
Charleston. 

This was our last excursion in Southern Italy. The time 
came when we must bid adieu to Naples. Never did I leave 
any other place with so much regret; we had seen so many 
beautiful things, and still left so many interesting localities 
unvisited. We had not been to Psestum, to Capri, to 
Ischia, to Procida ; and I must depart without the hope of 
ever beholding them even in the dim distance again. I 
should like to have spent a whole week at Pompeii, and to 
have climbed the rough scoria of Vesuvius daily for a month ; 
but time will not tarry for the traveller, and his money is 
fleeter than his moments. Bills are settled, baggage is on 
board the steamer, and a little boat is bearing us out into 
the open bay. An hour of sad, last, long, lingering looks; 
and the anchor is lifted, and wc are away. Farewell, sweet 



230 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Napoli ! My sojourn with thee has been one protracted 
throb of joy, and my soul has drunk in continual streams 
of pleasure through every sense. Farewell ! never again 
shall I behold thy beautiful shores. Farewell, Posilipo ! 
never again shall I enter thy ancient Gratia, or walk thy 
classic heights. And thou, dread Mountain, great Preacher 
of " the wrath to come I" lift up thy voice, and publish to 
deceivers and deceived " the day of the Lord that shall burn 
as an oven !" but never more shall these ears hear thy 
awful prophecy, nor these feet tread the crusted surface of 
thy " lake of fire !" 

Surely, no city needs less of architectural magnificence 
or internal attractions than Naples. With fewer of these, 
indeed, it would be a most desirable residence — so charming- 
its scenery, so balmy its atmosphere, so blue its waters, and 
so bright its sky ! Before it spreads the sea, with bays, 
islands, and promontories almost worthy of Paradise; be- 
hind it rise romantic hills, clothed with fruitful vineyards, 
and ever-blooming gardens, and groves of living green. 
Every morning a gale from the Mediterranean brings health 
and refreshment on its wings, and tempers the fervid day to 
pleasure ; every evening a breeze from the campania comes 
laden with the perfumes of flowers and the songs of nightin- 
gales, filling the darkness with fragrance and with melody ! 



THE CRADLE AND THRONE OF ROME. 231 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE CRADLE AND THE THRONE OP ROME. 

THE PALATINE AND THE DOMUS AUREA PRESENT APPEARANCE THE 

CAPITOL ITS DESTRUCTION ITS RESTORATION TEMPLE OF JUPITER 

ITS INFLUENCE AND UTILITY PRESENT BUILDINGS FORUM RO- 

MANUM JULIAN FORUM AUGUSTAN FORUM FORUM OF NERVA 

FORUM OF TRAJAN FORA VENALIA TEMPLE OF PEACE FLAVIAN 

AMPHITHEATRE. 

A stormy night on the Mediterranean, with something 
more than our equitable share of sea-sickness, and we are 
again at Civita Vecchia the despicable ; where we are 
doomed to spend twenty-four hours, in no very neat hotel, at 
no very moderate charges. The next morning — bills rendu, 
baggage plonibe, passports vis6, sundry paoli paid to waiters, 
facchini, commissionaires, and custom-house officials, besides 
a dollar to the ever-needy American consul, and all our 
carlini and bajocchi to the importunate lazzaroni — at pre- 
cisely " past thirty minutes half nine," as our Italian host 
most intelligibly expressed it — we were en route by vettura 
for Rome ; and about eight in the evening we greeted our 
friend, His Holiness, again in " The Capital of the Chris- 
tian World;" not Pio Nono the livery servant, who once 
upon a time, in some degree of excitement, went by dili- 
gence, on an important errand, to Gaeta ; but a very placid 
and amiable Pio Nono, who stands upon a pedestal in one 
corner of our little parlor, smiling benevolently upon the 



232 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

forestieri, and fearless of insurrection from the faithful. 
All bail, thrice reverend Rome ! however impoverished by 
the rapacity of tby priesthood, and degraded by the tyranny 
of superstition, yet consecrated by the memory of the good, 
the sepulchres of the great, and the struggles of the brave ! 
To all true souls, thou must ever be venerable and sacred ! 
An inexpressible solemnity reigns upon tby seven hills, and 
the spirits of sages, heroes, and martyrs hover over the 
wrecks of tby perished glory ! And now for a leisurely sur- 
vey of all that is impressive in the mouldering relics of the 
Rome that was ; and whatever is grand, gorgeous, or beauti- 
ful, in the Rome that flourishes upon her tomb. Let us first 
to the ancient nucleus, the Palatine and the Capitoline Hills, 
the cradle and the throne of empire. 

The humbler structures reared by Romulus gave place to 
the palace of the Caesars ; and the eminence which had 
borne a city was found too small for the residence of a single 
man. The buildings erected by Augustus were enlarged 
and beautified by Tiberius and Caligula. Then came Nero 
with his Domus Atirea, which extended over the neighboring 
Coelean, and covered the intervening valley. To this 
structure the world has never seen a parallel. Its rooms 
were lined with gold and mother-of-pearl, adorned with a 
profusion of sparkling gems. The ceiling of the dining- 
saloons was formed of ivory panels, so contrived as to scat- 
ter flowers and shower perfumes upon the guests. The 
principal banqueting-hall revolved upon itself, representing 
the revolutions of the firmament. The baths were supplied 
with salt water from the sea, and mineral water from the 
Aqua Albula. In the vestibule of the palace stood the 
colossal statue of the Emperor, a hundred and twenty feet 
high. There were three porticoes, each a mile in length, and 
supported by three rows of lofty pillars. The garden con- 
tained lakes and fountains, groves and vineyards, herds of 



THE CRADLE AND THRONE OF ROME. 233 

cattle, enclosures of wild beasts, and clusters of buildings 
resembling towns. Here the luxurious fiend found himself 
" lodged almost like a man." But he fell, and went " to his 
own place." Vespasian and Titus demolished that part of 
the palace which extended beyond the Palatine. Domitian 
enlarged and decorated it, and Septimius Severus added the 
magnificent Septizonium. This consisted of seven porticoes, 
supported by pillars of the finest marble, and rising one 
above another, in the form of a pyramid, to a prodigious ele- 
vation. In consequence of its great solidity and strength, 
it survived the disasters of the city, and suffered less during 
the triumph of barbarism than most other public edifices of 
ancient Rome. Three stories remained entire at so late a 
period as the reign of Sixtus Quintus, who took its pillars to 
adorn the basilica of Saint Peter, and demolished the rest 
of the building. Alas ! all the monuments of Roman 
power and splendor, so dear to the artist, the historian, and 
the antiquary, depend upon the will 'of an arbitrary sove- 
reign ; and that will is influenced too often by interest, ambi- 
tion, vanity, or superstition. Such rapacity is a crime against 
all ages and all generations; depriving the past of the tro- 
phies of its genius, and the title-deeds of its fame ; the pre- 
sent, of the noblest objects of curiosity, and the strongest 
motives to exertion ; the future, of the most admirable mas- 
terpieces of art, and the most perfect models for imitation. 
To guard against the repetition of such depredations, must be 
the desire of every man of genius, the duty of every man 
in authority, and the common interest of the whole civilized 
world. 

The palace of the Caesars is now a heap of ruins, nearly 
two miles in circuit, of which it is impossible even to make 
out the plan. Its area is covered with a rich soil, from fif- 
teen to thirty feet deep, in which potatoes, artichokes, and 
cauliflowers flourish with great luxuriance. There are two 



234 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

villas upon the top, and a prosperous convent. I have walked 
around its base, and over its gardens, and through its crumb- 
ling arches and subterranean corridors, till its mournful spirit 
took possession of my soul, and I could have wept for the 
fall of the imperial glory. On the southern and western 
sides of the hill are immense fragments — some of huge rec- 
tangular blocks, pointing to the times of the Republic; and 
others of opus reticulatum, indicating their imperial origin — 
all overgrown with weeds and briers, amidst which the wild 
hare makes her home, and the serpent and the lizard sun them- 
selves without fear. Deep under ground, at the northern 
angle of the eminence, looking toward the forum and the 
capitol, is a set of vast arches, now occupied as a stable ; in 
passing through which I came near being torn to pieces by 
a furious dog, and eaten up by fleas. About a century and 
a half ago, an immense hall was uncovered, which had long 
lain concealed beneath its own ruins ; but its pillars, statues, 
mosaics, and precious marbles were immediately removed 
by the Farnese family, who owned the soil, to enrich their 
galleries and beautify their palaces. 

The Capitoline was originally a precipitous hill, covered 
with a dense grove of trees ', and from the very foundation 
of Rome, regarded with awe and veneration as the abode of 
celestial powers. 

"Some god they knew — what god they could not tell — 
Did there amid the sacred horror dwell: 
The Arcadians called him Jove, and said they saw 
The mighty Thunderer, with majestic awe; 
Who shook his shield, and dealt his bolts around, 
And scattered tempests o'er the teeming ground." 

This superstition doubtless led to the subsequent glorious 
destination of the place. Romulus consecrated it by erect- 
ing the Temple of Jupiter Feretrius ; and the kings, consuls, 
and emperors added structures of a solidity and magnificence 



THE CRADLE AND THRONE OP ROME. 235 

which, says Tacitus, the wealth of succeeding ages might 
adorn, but could not increase. Thus it became both a 
fortress, frowning defiance on the foes of Rome ; and a 
sanctuary, crowded with altars and temples, the repository 
of the fatal oracles, and the seat of the tutelar deities of the 
Empire. Twice the buildings were destroyed by fire; first 
in the civil wars between Marius and Sylla, and afterward in 
the dreadful contest between the partisans of Vitellius and 
Vespasian. Tacitus deplores this event as "the most lament- 
able and most disgraceful calamity that ever happened to the 
Roman people." 

But the Capitol rose once more from its ashes, more splen- 
did and majestic than ever; and received from the munifi- 
cence of Vespasian, and of his sou Domitian, its last and 
richest embellishments. On its two extremities stood the 
Temples of Jupiter Feretrius and Jupiter Custos, flanked 
by those of Fortune and Fides, and of other inferior divini- 
ties. In the centre, crowning the majestic pyramid, rose 
high over all the residence of Jupiter Capitolinus, the guard- 
ian of the Empire, on a hundred steps, supported by a 
hundred pillars, adorned with all the refinements of art, and 
blazing with the plunder of the world. Within the splen- 
did fane, with Juno on his left and Minerva on his right, 
sat the Thunderer on a throne of gold, grasping the light- 
ning in one hand, and with the other wielding the sceptre 
of universal dominion. The walls glittered with jewelled 
crowns and various weapons of war — the offerings of empe- 
rors and conquerors — the spoils of vanquished and subju- 
gated nations. The portals flamed with gems and gold ; and 
pediment, niches, and roof teemed with the costliest treas- 
ures. The building was covered with bronze, the mere 
gilding of which amounted to the enormous sum of fifteen 
millions of dollars — an item which, perhaps more readily 



236 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

than any other, suggests the incalculable wealth of this 
Throne of Empire and Religion. 

Hither the consuls were conducted by the senate, to assume 
the military dress, and implore the favor of the gods, before 
they marched to battle. Hither the victorious generals used 
to repair in triumph, to present the spoils and royal captives 
they had taken, and offer hecatombs to " Tarpeian Jove." 
Here, in case of danger and distress, the senate assembled, and 
the magistrates convened, to deliberate in the presence and 
under the immediate influence of the tutelar gods of Rome. 
Here the laws were exhibited to public inspection, as if under 
the sanction of the divinity; and here also they were deposited, 
as if intrusted to his guardian care. Manlius, as long as he 
could extend his arm, and fix the attention of the people 
upon the Capitol which he had saved, suspended his fatal" 
sentence. Caius Gracchus melted the hearts of his audience, 
when he pointed to the Capitol, and asked with all the em- 
phasis of despair, whether he could hope to find an asylum 
in that sanctuary whose pavement still streamed with the 
blood of his brother. Scipio Africanus, when accused by an 
envious faction, and obliged to appear before the people as a 
criminal, instead of answering the charge, turned to the 
Capitol, and invited the assembly to accompany him to the 
Temple of Jupiter, and give thanks to the gods for the 
defeat of the Carthaginian invader. And to the Capitol 
Cicero turned his hands and his eyes when he closed his first 
oration against Catiline with that noble address to Jupiter, 
presiding there over the destinies of the Empire, and doom- 
ing its enemies to destruction. Such was the solemn inter- 
est of this consecrated eminence, the awe which it inspired 
in the Romaji mind, and the influence which it exerted over 
the populace, that the poets, orators, and historians of Rome 
are constantly referring to the Capitol as the most sacred 



THE CRADLE AND THRONE OP ROME 237 

locality in the world, and appealing to the gods who were 
supposed to dwell there as the guardians of their favored 
city. 

The hill is now occupied by three fine palaces, designed 
by Michael Angelo, but vastly inferior to those which adorned 
it in imperial times. It is ascended from the modern city 
on the northern side, by a long broad flight of steps, at the 
top of which are the ancient statues of Castor and Pollux 
holding their horses. Here you enter upon a spacious 
square, with the mansion of the Roman senator in front, 
two large buildings with fine porticoes on the right and left, 
and in the centre the noble equestrian statue of Marcus 
Aurelius, which originally stood in the forum. The palace 
of the senator — there is but one Roman senator now, and 
he is nothing more than a name and a fine carriage — is a tall 
and unattractive edifice, with Corinthian pilasters, heavy 
grated windows, and a campanile as ugly as it is elevated. 
In this tower is an immense clock and several bells. One 
of the latter, which is very large, is rung only at the begin- 
ning and the end of the Carnival, and the inauguration and 
death of the Pope. The view from the top is the finest that 
can anywhere be enjoyed of the limits and ruins of the 
ancient city. In the basement of the building is the lately 
excavated Tabular ium, where were preserved of old the 
archives of the Empire. The other two buildings contain 
an immense collection of busts, statues, bas-reliefs, sarco- 
phagi, galleries of paintings, and numerous relics of Repub- 
lican and Imperial Rome. Here is the only authentic statue 
of Julius Caesar. Here is the most beautiful Venus in the 
world. Here is the she-wolf of bronze, scarred with the 
thunder of Jove. Here are all the emperors, orators, heroes, 
sages, and poets of Rome, and the chief celebrities of 
Greece, immortalized in marble. In short, the Capitol is 
consecrated no longer to the tutelar divinities of the city; 



238 A YEAE IN EUROPE. 

but to her arts, to the remains of her grandeur, the monu- 
ments of her genius, and her high-sounding hut empty 
titles. 

At the foot of the Capitoline, on the southeast, looking 
toward the Coliseum, lie the august fragments of the Forum 
Romanum, where foreign monarchs trembled in their chains, 
and thousands hung breathless on the lips of Cicero. In 
the days of its gloi*y, with its grand and gorgeous environ- 
ment of temples and statues, porticoes and palaces, it pre- 
sented one of the most imposing exhibitions that ever greeted 
the e3^e of man. Nothing remains but its ruins. The 
naked wall of the rostra stands there, stripped of its mar- 
ble, and silent for ever. This, with the column of Phocus in 
front, the arch of Septimius Severus at one end, eight Doric 
pillars of granite at the other, three elegant Corinthian 
shafts in the rear, a patch of the massive pavement of the 
Via Sacra, a few fragments of variegated marble, broken 
capitals and cornices, and heaps of solidly cemented brick- 
work, about which antiquaries quarrel in vain, is nearly all 
that is left to remind the stranger that here once stood the 
pride of the Roman people, the theatre of immortal elo- 
quence, the centre of imperial power. To crown its ruin 
and complete its degradation, it is now the common rendez- 
vous of cattle, and called the Campo Vaccino, or Cow-field. 

Rome grew, and the crowds that flocked to the public 
assemblies increased, and in course of time the forum was 
found too small for their accommodation. But its limits 
could not be enlarged, for it was encircled with buildings 
whose demolition would have been sacrilege, and consecrated 
by omens, and auguries, and the fame of heroic deeds. 
Julius Caesar therefore, without violating its dignity or 
destroying its preeminence, took upon himself the popular 
charge of providing the Roman people with another, which, 
after him. was called the Julian. The ground itself cost 



THE CRADLE AND THRONE OP ROME. 239 

about four millions and a half of our money. It was on the 
eastern side of the Roman Forum, and connected with it. 
In its centre stood the temple of Venus Genetrix, and in 
front the bronze statue of Caesar's favorite horse. It was 
here that he first offended the Roman people, by receiving 
the senators sitting in front of the temple, when they had 
come to him in solemn state. There is nothing of this 
forum remaining that can be identified. 

Adjacent to this Augustus erected another, lined with a 
magnificent portico, and enclosing the temple of Mars Ultor, 
whose stately columns — a mere fragment — constitute its 
sole remains. It was adorned with many bronze statues of 
the finest workmanship. Those on one side represented the 
Latin and Roman kings from .ZEneas down to Tarquinius Su- 
perbus ; and those on the other, the Roman heroes, all in 
triumphal robes. The base of each statue was inscribed 
with the history of the person whom it represented. In the 
centre stood the colossal Augustus, towering above all the 
rest. 

The Forum of Nerva was so named because it was 
finished by that Emperor, though it was begun by Domitian, 
his predecessor. Sometimes it was called the Forum Tran- 
sitorium, because it formed a connection between those 
already described and that which was afterward constructed 
by Trajan. Part of the wall which enclosed it still remains, 
and is one of the grandest ruins of ancient Rome ; with the 
front of the temple of Pallas Minerva which it encircled, 
whose fine Corinthian columns stand buried to half their 
height in the ground. 

The Forum of Trajan was last in date, but first in 
beauty. The splendor of these edifices was indeed progress- 
ive. The Julian is said to have surpassed the Roman ; the 
Augustan is described by Pliny as the most beautiful of all 
structures; yet it was afterward acknowledged inferior to 



240 A TEAR IN EUROPE. 

that of Nerva; and the latter yielded in its turn to the 
matchless fabric of Trajan. This consisted of four porticoes, 
supported by pillars of the most beautiful marble, their 
roofs resting on brazen beams, and covered with brazen 
plates. It was paved with variegated marble, and adorned 
with numerous bronze statues. At one end stood a temple, 
at the other a triumphal arch ; on one side a basilica, on the 
other a public library ; in the centre the celebrated column, 
recording in bas-relief the history of Trajan, and crowned 
with his colossal statue. This column still stands entire, 
surrounded with many fragments of granite and marble pil- 
lars ; but the Galilean fishermen, with the keys, occupies 
the place of the Roman emperor at its summit. When 
Constantius first beheld this forum, he was struck dumb with 
astonishment; and Ammianus Marcellinus pronounced it 
unsurpassed beneath the sun, and admirable even in the 
estimation of the gods. 

These were the fora civilia, devoted to public matters 
relating to the welfare of the state. There were also fora 
venalia, which, as the name indicates, were merely places 
of trade. One of these, the Forum JBoarktm, is still iden- 
tified by the massive arch of Janus Quadrifrons, west of 
the Forum Romanum, and not far from the Tarpeian Pre- 
cipice. 

Midway between the Great Forum and the Coliseum, at 
the highest point of the Via Sacra, stands the Triumphal 
Arch of Titus, the most beautiful of all the Roman struc- 
tures of this character remaining. It was erected by the 
senate, in honor of the general who subdued Judea, and 
spoiled the Holy City. A little to the left of this, as you 
look toward the Coliseum, are seen three stupendous vaults 
— the remains of the Basilica of Constantine, built upon 
the ruins of the Temple of Peace. The latter was reared 
by Vespasian at the conclusion of the Jewish wars; and 



THE CRADLE AND THRONE OF ROME. 241 

filled with the spoils of the temple at Jerusalem, and the 
chief wonders of art collected from all the provinces of the 
empire; so that, according to Josephus, it constituted the 
most splendid museum in the world. This gorgeously-fur- 
nished edifice was consumed by fire in the reign of the Em- 
peror Commodus; and its destruction, ascribed to the 
vengeance of the gods, was regarded as a melancholy omen 
to the empire. The popular sentiment was verified by the 
event ; for the fall of the Temple of Peace was followed by 
centuries of rebellion, convulsion, and disaster. 

The Coliseum, stripped, as it is, of its external decora- 
tions, and its very walls more than half-demolished, still 
astonishes and delights the beholder. I ranged through its 
lofty arcades, and trod its vaulted galleries, with ever- 
increasing wonder at the grandeur of its immense propor- 
tions. Around, beneath, above, was one vast spectacle of 
magnificence and devastation, of glory and decay — a mould- 
ering mass of ruined masonry, covered with weeds and 
shrubs, and sweet wall-flowers blossoming amid the stones 
which had been stained with the blood of the martyrs. Yet 
this mighty structure, 

"Which, on its public shows unpeopled Home, 
And held uncrowded nations," 

was erected by Vespasian and Titus out of part only of the 
materials, and on a small part of the area, of Nero's Grolden 
House. 

The Coliseum, owing to the solidity of its structure, sur- 
vived the era of barbarism ; and was so perfect in the thirteenth 
century, that games were celebrated in it for the amusement 
of the Roman public. Strange as it may appear, its destruc- 
tion was the fruit of Roman taste and vanity. When the 
city began to arise from its ruins, and a desire for fine archi- 
ll 



242 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

lecture began to revive, the wealthy citizens — princes, 
nobles, and cardinals — carried off its materials to build their 
own sumptuous palaces. It is said of Cardinal Farnese, 
that when erecting his most superb mansion, he requested 
permission of his uncle, who was Pope at the time, to pro- 
cure marble from the Coliseum. After much persuasion 
His Holiness granted the petition, limiting the privilege to 
twelve hours. Hereupon the wily cardinal turned into the 
building a force of four hundred men, and within the 
allotted time, furnished himself with all that he desired. 
Several other palaces — as the Barbarine, and I believe also 
the Doria — were constructed chiefly of stone from the same 
quarry. Probably the immense structure would have been 
totally demolished had not Benedict the Fourteenth arrested 
the process of destruction. Out of respect for the memory 
of the martyrs who had suffered there, he erected a cross in 
the centre of the arena, and declared the place sacred. 
This measure, two or three centuries earlier, would have 
preserved the grand fabric entire ; it can now only protect 
its remains, and transmit the ruined pile to posterity — a 
mere fragment of the Flavian Amphitheatre. 

The last time I passed it was on a Sabbath afternoon. I 
had always found a soldier on guard at the principal en- 
trance ; but now there were two, who crossed their bayonets 
as I approached them. When I urged my desire to enter, 
they shook their heads, and answered: "C'est impossible, 
Monsieur" I walked around without the wall; and, look- 
ing through one of the arches from the other side, dis- 
covered the reason why I had not been admitted : two 
French soldiers, stripped to the waist, were fighting a duel 
with swords. 



MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 248 



CHAPTEK XIX. 

MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 

MILLEARIUM AUREUM — VIA APPIA — OTHER ROMAN ROADS — CLOACiE — ■ 

AQUEDUCTS FOUNTAINS THERMiE OE DIOCLESIAN THERMiE OF 

TITUS THERMS OF CARACALLA THERMiE OP AGRIPPA, OF CON- 

STANTINE, OF ALEXANDER SEVERUS CIRCUS MAXIMUS CIRCUS OF 

MAXENTIUS TEMPLE OF QUIRINUS TEMPLE OF THE SUN POR- 
TICOES. 

In the Roman Forum, at the west end of the Rostrum, 
stood the pillar called the Millearium Aureum, on which 
were inscribed the distances from the Capitol to all the 
great cities of Italy and of the empire. At this column the 
Vise or military roads commenced, diverging in every direc- 
tion as they left the city, generally running in straight lines 
as nearly as possible, sometimes cut through the solid rock, 
and sometimes carried on lofty arches over broad valleys 
and deep ravines. They were the most remarkable high- 
ways ever constructed by any nation in any age. In process 
of time they were extended to the most distant parts of the 
empire, and formed a means of easy communication with its 
remotest provinces. 

The most famous of all these military roads was the Via 
Appia. This was begun by Appius Claudius more than 
three centuries before Christ. At first it terminated at 
Capua, but was subsequently continued to Brundusium. 
It was paved with solid blocks of basaltic lava, exceedingly 



244 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

smooth and hard. These blocks were not square, but poly- 
gonal, yet fitted together in the exactest manner. They 
were from two to three feet in breadth, and from one to two 
in thickness. The most interesting part of this road, from 
the tomb of Osecilia Metella to the Alban Hills, has been 
excavated during the reign of the present pope, under the 
direction of the eminent and indefatigable Roman archaeolo- 
gist, Commendatore Canina ; who, when the work was 
finished, in 1853, published an interesting account of it in 
two volumes, with detailed topographical plans, and restora- 
tions of the principal monuments. 

One fine morning in May, I procured a carriage, and we 
drove out eight miles on this ancient thoroughfare. Passing 
the Porta Sabastiano, we met a priest who spoke a little 
English, and asked him, as our vetturino seemed not to 
know, which was the way into the Via Appia. u yes," 
he replied, "it is very happy; you must not fear; it is quite 
safe for you." Thus encouraged, though little enlightened, 
we proceeded, but soon found that we were going astray, and 
were obliged to take a cross-road, which brought us to the 
Via Appia near the catacombs of San Sebastiano. From 
this point, for more than seven miles, it is a continuous 
street of tombs ; none of them entire, and most of them in 
utter ruin. Among the rest is one, near the fourth mile- 
stone, which Canina supposes to be that of Seneca, where he 
was murdered, by order of Nero, for his endeavors to reform 
his imperial pupil; and two near the fifth mile-stone, evi- 
dently more ancient than their neighbors, and somewhat 
Etruscan in their style, which he identifies as the sepulchres 
of the immortal Soratii and Curiatii. The largest of all 
these monuments is called Gasal Rotondo, about seven miles 
and a half beyond the city wall. It is built of small frag- 
ments of lava, imbedded in a strong cement; and was origin- 
ally encased in large blocks of travertine, and covered with 



MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 245 

a conical roof. Travertine and conical roof, however, long 
since disappeared under the hand of the spoiler ; and there is 
now upon the top of it a farm-house, with outbuildings, and 
a garden of olives. It is not certain to whom this majestic 
mausoleum belonged, but an inscription discovered in the 
course of a late excavation has led to the belief that it was 
reared by Marcus Aurelius Messalinus Cotta, who was Con- 
sul in the twentieth year of our era, in honor of his father — 
the orator and poet, Messala Corvinus — the friend of Augus- 
tus and Horace, who died nine years before. If this opinion 
be correct, this monument was built to perpetuate the name 
of the dead, while he who "abolished death, and brought 
life and immortality to light through his gospel," was per- 
sonally upon the earth. 

What I have to say of the sepulchre of Ccecilia Metella I 
reserve for another chapter. The fragments of fine statuary 
and beautifully-wrought marbles, which lie scattered along 
the way, are truly a melancholy sight. In some places the 
road is actually macadamized with these fragments, which 
have been broken up for this purpose. Much of the dis- 
tance, however, the ancient pavement is nearly perfect, and 
here and there one sees something of the narrow sidewalk 
with its curbstones — the very pavement over which rolled 
the wheels of Augustus, and the very sidewalk trodden by 
the weary-footed Paul, " a prisoner of Jesus Christ," as he 
came to stand before his imperial pagan judge. 

The Via Aurelia was more extensive than the Via Appia. 
Reaching the Mediterranean coast at Alsium, it ran along 
the shore to Genoa, and thence to Forum Julium in Graul. 
Besides these, there were the Via Latina, the Via Labi- 
cana, the Via Collatina, the Via Prenestina, the Via 
Tiburtina, the Via Nomentana, the Via Carniola, the Via 
Veientana, the Via Solaria, the Via Flaminia, the Via 
Cassia, the Via Claudia, the Via Vitellea, the Via Lau- 



246 A YEAR IN EUROPE.. 

rentina, the Via Ardeatina, the Via Portuensis, the Via 
Ostiensis, and perhaps several more. Most of these were 
constructed in the same manner as the Via Apjpia, though 
in some instances they were paved with large rectangular 
blocks of hewn stone, joined so closely as to appear but one 
continuous rock. These great military ways are among the 
most remarkable memorials of the Roman power. You meet 
with their remains in every direction across the wild cam- 
pagna; and some of them may still be traced a hundred 
miles from the capital. They have resisted alike the influ- 
ence of time, and the march of marshalled hosts, with the 
roll of triumphal chariots, and the heavy engines of war; 
and where they have not been torn up by human hands, or 
shaken to pieces by earthquakes, or undermined by torrents, 
they are as perfect now as they were two thousand years 
ago. 

Another of the most noticeable relics of ancient Rome — 
remarkable as well for its utility as its antiquity and solidity 
— is the Cloaca Maxima. This is an arched subterranean 
gallery, sixteen feet wide and thirty feet high, constructed 
in the reign of Tarquinius Superbus, for the purpose of 
draining the city. It was built by Etruscan hands, in the 
Etruscan style — that is, with large square blocks of Traver- 
tine, nicely fitted together without cramps or cement. So 
solid is the structure that it remains as perfect, after the 
chariot-wheels of twenty-four centuries have rolled over it, 
as it was in the day of its completion. 

Communicating with this great sewer were many smaller 
ones of like construction, also called Cloacse, carried under 
the city in every direction, sufficiently large for a boat or a 
loaded car to pass through them. To cleanse them, streams 
from the aqueducts were turned into them, and torrents 
rushed through them with a force which would soon have 
torn to pieces any ordinary masonry of our day, and swept 



MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 247 

the fragments into the Tiber. Since the ruin of the aque- 
ducts, the expense of clearing them from time to time has 
been enormous, and on one occasion amounted to more than 
sis hundred thousand dollars. Notwithstanding the im- 
mense superincumbent weight of modern buildings and 
ancient ruins, these gigantic works for the chief part still 
remain entire, serving to drain the present as they did the 
former city, and exciting often in the tourist a wonder equal 
to that which they produced in the Grothic conqueror. 

Of all the ruins of imperial Rome, the most stupendous 
are the broken arches of its aqueducts. From the city wall 
you see them stretching away across the dreary campagna 
for six or seven miles ; and in some places, where they cross 
the little valleys, they are a hundred feet high. The origi- 
nal structures were of stone, but many of the additions and 
repairs are of brick. There were nine of these aqueducts 
on this side the Tiber, and three on the other. One of the 
nine conveyed the water more than sixty miles. Two of 
them were carried more than twenty miles, over these lofty 
arches. The others were partly subterranean. The first 
was built by Appius Claudius, as its name indicates, three 
hundred and eleven years before Christ. Two others dated 
from the days of the republic ; but the rest were all of im- 
perial origin. They were all broken and destroyed by the 
barbarians in the sixth century ; but three of them have been 
restored by the popes, and still serve to supply Rome with 
abundance of pure and salubrious water from the distant 
mountains. 

The streams from these aqueducts anciently flowed into 
large reservoirs, elevated on towers called Castella, whence 
it was distributed over the city. These towers were massive 
and solid structures, and some of them were very magnifi- 
cent, being faced with marble, and adorned with pillars and 
statuary. The number of public reservoirs, from their ex- 



248 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

tent and depth called lakes, is supposed to have been over a 
thousand. The fountains also were exceedingly numerous, 
and tastefully ornamented. Agrippa alone, according to 
Pliny, opened a hundred and thirty in one year, and beauti- 
fied them with three hundred statues of brass and marble. 
Strabo tells us that such a quantity of water was introduced 
into the city, that whole rivers seemed to flow through the 
streets and sewers ; and every house, by means of conduits 
and cisterns, was furnished with an unfailing supply. If 
the Glaudian aqueduct alone afforded eight hundred thousand 
tons of water a day, how copious must have been this grand 
provision for the popular convenience ! When the utility 
of these public works is considered, one does not wonder a,t 
their estimate by Frontonius, who preferred them to the 
idle bulk of the Egyptian pyramids, and to the more grace- 
ful though less profitable edifices of Greece. 

Only three of these aqueducts, I have said, are now in 
use ; yet Rome is better supplied, perhaps, with good water, 
than any other city in the world. Its streets, courts, and 
squares are adorned with numerous fountains ; not throwing 
up each a mere thread of water into the air, or distilling a 
few drops into a dirty basin ; but pouring forth magnificent 
jets and torrents, which never intermit nor diminish. The 
Fontana di Paolina, just under the brow of the Janiculum, 
is the source of three rivers, which drive a dozen flour-mills, 
and all the other machinery of the Trastevera. And there 
are several others — as the Fontana di Trevi in the centre of 
the city, that on the Quirinal, where Moses stands smiting 
the rock, the two in front of St. Peter's, and those of the 
Piazza Navona, of the Piazza di Spagna, of the Piazza del 
Popolo — which rival this in the grandeur of their arrange- 
ments, and the quantity of water which they yield. 

With the aqueducts and fountains of imperial Rome are 
naturally connected the Thermse, which ranked among the 



MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 249 

most magnificent as well as the most useful of its architectu- 
ral wonders. There were at least sixteen public baths, sup- 
plied with hot and cold water, and open at all hours of the 
day. They differed in magnitude and in splendor, but all 
had some features in common. Besides the conveniences 
for bathing, they contained spacious halls for reading, decla- 
mation, gymnastic exercises, etc. These balls were lined 
and paved with marble, and adorned with the most valuable 
works of art. They were surrounded with groves, and 
gardens, and promenades, and combined every species of 
refined and manly amusement. One who looks upon the 
modern Romans must conclude that they have sadly degene- 
rated in respect of personal cleanliness since the days of 
Diocletian ; and we may well envy the ancients, who could 
enjoy, every day, without trouble or expense, scenes of 
splendor and luxury which the proudest monarch of the 
present age might in vain attempt to emulate. 

The Thermse of Diocletian, situated on lions Quirinalis, 
were the most extensive and the most magnificent in Rome. 
The buildings covered an area nearly a mile in circuit, and 
occupied forty thousand Christians in their construction. 
There are no ruins more grand and imposing witbin the 
walls of the city. One hall, nearly as large as St. Peter's, 
has been converted into a church, in the form of a Greek 
cross, after the designs of Michael Angelo. Tbe vaulted 
roof still retains the rings by which the ancient lamps were 
suspended, and eight lofty columns of oriental granite still 
stand in their original positions, though their bases are con- 
cealed by the elevation of the floor several feet above its for- 
mer level. Near this are the remains of a vast reservoir in 
nine compartments, and of several large saloons, with arches of 
immense span, now filled with hay, and tenanted by myriads 
of fleas. 

The Baths of Titus 7 enlarged and adorned by Domitian 
11* 



250 A YEAE IN EUROPE. 

and Trajan, stood upon the Esquiline, north of the Coliseum. 
They were of great extent and magnificence, though inferior 
to those of Diocletian. Parts of a temple, of a theatre, and 
of a capacious saloon, remain above ground ; and many 
spacious vaults, and reservoirs, and corridors, below. Some 
of these subterranean apartments are curiously painted, fur- 
nishing the best specimens of ancient fresco that have been 
preserved in Rome ; and though buried for so many centuries, 
they still retain much of their original beauty. Giovanni 
and Rafaello were so pleased with them that tbey copied 
them for the logia of the Vatican. These vaults were filled 
up in the seventeenth century, to prevent their being made 
a place of refuge by banditti; but in 1813 they were opened 
again, and have since remained much as we now see them. 
From these stately ruins was taken the famous group of the 
Laocoon, with several fine pillars of granite, porphyry, and 
alabaster. If completely excavated, and all their recesses 
explored, there is no telling what treasures of ancient art 
might here be brought to light. With these remains are 
connected the Sette Sale, or Seven Halls — vast vaulted 
rooms, intended originally, perhaps, as reservoirs to supply 
the baths with water. It is difficult, however, to say with 
confidence what here belonged to the buildings of the 
Thermse, and what to the Villa of Maecenas, and the Grolden 
House of Nero, which occupied the same elevation. 

Next to the Coliseum, the largest ruin in Rome, and the 
best preserved of all similar structures, is that of the Baths 
of Caracalla. They are entirely stripped of their pillars 
and statues, both within and without; but the walls are still 
standing, and the principal apartments may be easily distin- 
guished. The ruin is oblong, and nearly a mile in circuit. 
Besides its great halls and numerous chambers, this estab- 
lishment contained the temples of Eseulapius and Apollo, 
as the genii tutelares of a place sacred to the care of the 



MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 251 

body and the improvement of the mind; and two others 
dedicated to Bacchus and Hercules, as the protecting deities 
of the Antonine family. There wei*e also a gymnasium and 
a library, as well as spacious rooms where poets recited, rhe- 
toricians declaimed, and philosophers lectured. All these 
apartments were paved and vaulted with mosaics, and deco- 
rated with paintings and statues. There were walks shaded 
with rows of stately trees, and bounded by a magnificent 
portico. This immense structure was probably entire so late 
as the sixth century, when the destruction of the aqueducts 
which supplied the baths rendered it useless, and it fell 
rapidly into decay. When the granite columns of the porti- 
coes were removed, the roof came down with a crash which 
shook the city, and the people thought it was an earthquake. 
Among these splendid ruins were found the two magnificent 
basaltic basins now in the Vatican, also the Farnese Hercules, 
the two gladiators, the Atreus and Tlbyestes, the colossal 
Flora in the Neapolitan museum, and the Venus Galipygc — 
one of the finest statues in the world. Among these glori- 
ous fragments poor Shelley used to wander, 

" conipanionless 
As the last cloud of an expiring storm, 
Whose thunder is its knell." 

Here, he tells us, he wrote the greater part of his Prome- 
theus Unbound; and in the Protestant burying-ground, just 
beyond the Aventine, less than a mile distant, I have seen a 
tombstone, with the simple inscription, " Shelley — Cor 
Cordium." 

The Baths of Agrippa, which he bequeathed • to the 
Roman people, were in the rear of the Pantheon, where the 
remains of a grand circular hall are nearly concealed by 
modern dwellings. They had connected with them exten- 
sive gardens, a fine artificial lake, and a portico more than a 



252 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

mile in length. The two colossal horses on Monte Cavallo, 
the statues of the Nile and the Tiber at the Capitol, and a 
few other works of art in the Rospigliosi palace, are the only 
relics of the Baths of Constantine. For those of Nero and 
Alexander Severus one inquires in vain : Canina himself 
cannot tell where they stood, and all the Koman antiquaries 
have been unable to identify a single trace of their magnifi- 
cence. 

In the valley which divided the Palatine and the Aven- 
tine, on the very spot where the games were being celebrated 
when the Romans seized the Sabine women, Tarquinius 
Priscus constructed the famous Circus Maximus, which was 
enlarged and improved from time to time, till, in the reign 
of Constantine, it was capable of accommodating half the 
population of Rome. In this circus an astonishing number 
of wild beasts were exhibited : two hundred and fifty-two 
years before Christ, a hundred and forty-two elephants; 
during Csesar's third dictatorship, four hundred lions; but 
the Emperor Grordian, and forty years afterward the Empe- 
ror Probus, converted the circus into a temporary wood, and 
turned into it an incredible multitude of wild animals of 
every kind for the amusement of the people, who were at 
liberty to take whatever they could catch. The popularity 
of the circus increased with the corruption of morals which 
accompanied the decline of the empire. Ammianus Marcel- 
linus, animadverting on the avidity with which such amuse- 
ments were sought, and the zest with which they were en- 
joyed, holds the following language : " The Circus Maximus 
is their temple, their dwelling-house, the place of their pub- 
lic meeting, and of all their hopes. In the forum, in the 
streets, and the squares, multitudes assemble together and 
dispute, some defending one thing and some another. The 
oldest take the privilege of age, and cry out in the Temples 
and the Forum that the republic must fall, if, in the 



MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 253 

approaching games, the person whom they support does not 
win the prize, and first pass the goal. When the much- 
desired day of the equestrian games arrives, before sunrise, 
all rush headlong to the spot, exceeding in swiftness the, 
chariots that are to run, and upon the success of which their 
wishes are so divided that many pass the night without 
sleep." Lactantius confirms this account, and adds, that 
the people, from their great eagerness, often quarrelled and 
fought. Very little remains by which to identify this 
renowned resort ; nothing, indeed, but a few fragments of 
its porticoes along the slopes of the Palatine and the Avan- 
tine ; while the place of the Spina is occupied by the unclas- 
sical gas-works of modern Rome; and its two Egyptian 
obelisks have been transferred, the one to the Piazza del 
JPopolo, and the other to the Piazza di San Giovanni in 
Later ano. 

The Circus of Maxentius, near the tomb of Csecilia 
Metella, presents such remnants of its ancient walls as enable 
us to form a pretty correct idea of its different parts and its 
general arrangements. We stumbled upon this extensive 
ruin quite accidentally, in one of our miscellaneous perambu- 
lations through the chaos of antiquities which environs 
Rome; and an English party soon entered the enclosure, 
whose better information answered instead of our guide- 
books, which we had left at home. A large portion of the 
exterior of this circus remains, and the foundations of the 
two obelisks which terminated the spina and formed the 
goals. Near the principal goal, on one side, behind the 
benches, stands the tower whereon the judges sat to observe 
the contests. One end supported a gallery, which contained 
a band of musicians ; and was flanked by two towers, whence 
the signals for starting were given. Its length was a third 
of a mile, its breadth two hundred and sixty feet, the extent 
of the spina nine hundred and twenty-two feet, the distance 



254 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

from the career, or starting-point, to the first 'meta, or goal, 
five hundred and fifty feet; yet these dimensions were not 
near as great as those of the Circus Maximus. There were 
seven ranges of seats, which would contain, perhaps, fifty 
thousand spectators. As jostling was allowed, and no exer- 
tion of strength or skill was prohibited, the chariots were 
occasionally overturned; and as the drivers had the reins 
tied around their bodies, so that they could not suddenly 
disengage themselves, fatal accidents sometimes occurred. 
To remove those who were killed or injured, there was a 
large gate opposite the first meta ; and this was necessary, as 
the ancients deemed it an evil omen to go through a gate 
defiled by the passage of a dead body. Over the end oppo- 
site the career was a triumphal arch, through which the vic- 
torious charioteer drove, amidst the joyful acclamations of 
the multitude. There were originally four sets of drivers, 
named from the four colors which they wore : the Albati, 
white, the Russati, red, the Prasini, green, and the Veneti, 
blue ; to which Domitian added two more, the Aitrei, yellow, 
and the Purpurei, purple. Each color drove five rounds 
with fresh horses ; their stables, therefore, were close to the 
circus. 

I trust, kind reader, thou wilt appreciate these classical 
dissertations. I trust, also, thou hast some reverence for 
Romulus, the father of this classical city. If so, accompany 
me to the Quirinal, and let us look for his temple, where he 
vanished amidst the tempest that constituted the chariot of 
his ascension. Here it stood, "sublime with lofty columns/' 
on the ground now occupied by the gardens of the Jesuits. 
But there are no traces of it left, and its last remains were 
removed by Otho of Milan, when Senator of Rome, to form 
the steps of the Ara Coeli on the Capitol. It is commonly 
supposed that Romulus was assassinated by his senators, who 
covered their crime by making him a god. He was wor- 



MISCELLANEOUS ANTIQUITIES. 255 

shipped under the name of Quirinus, and the eminence whereon 
his temple was reared was thence called Mo?is Quirinalis. 
The edifice was supported hy a colonnade of seventy-six 
majestic pillars, and its portal was approached by a noble 
flight of more than a hundred steps. We may judge some- 
thing of the reverence felt by the ancient Romans for the 
founder and tutelar divinity of their city, from the fact that 
Julius Csesar ascended those steps on his knees, as pilgrims 
now do the Scala Santa at the Saint John Lateran. 

On the opposite side of the Quirinal, overlooking the 
Campus Martins, stood the Temple of the Sun, erected by 
Aurelian, and not inferior in grandeur and decoration to that 
of Quirinus. The pillars which sustained its portico, if we 
may judge from a single fragment remaining in another part 
of the city, must have been nearly or quite seventy feet 
high ; and as they, with the whole of their entablature, were 
of the whitest marble and the richest order, they must have 
presented a very splendid and imposing appearance, worthy 
of " the far-beaming god of day." But the massive colonnade 
has long since fallen, and nothing remains upon the ground 
to be identified, but two huge pieces of elaborately wrought 
cornice, lying in the Golonna Gardens. I measured these 
with my staff; and found one of them sixteen feet long, 
and eight feet thick ; the other, twelve by ten ; each a sin- 
gle block of white marble, though now sadly darkened by 
age. Some idea may be formed of the wealth and splendor 
of this edifice, when it is stated that Aurelian gave to it fif- 
teen thousand pounds of gold from the spoils of the con- 
quered Palmyra. 

The Portico of Constantine, which stood near the Tem- 
ple of the Sun, has totally disappeared. The porticoes of 
ancient Rome were numerous, and constituted one of its 
chief architectural beauties. They were covered walks, 
supported by columns, open on one side, sometimes on both, 



256 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and often richly adorned with works of art. Augustus 
erected a portico in honor of Livia his wife, and another to 
Octavia his sister, both of which were very extensive and 
magnificent. Agrippa built the Porticus Septorum, enclos- 
ing the space of a mile, where the legions were mustered 
and paid; and another to which he gave his own name, 
ornamented with numerous paintings and statues. Several 
lines of porticoes led to the capitol, and beautified the sides 
of the acclivity. Forums, temples, curias, basilicas, and 
theatres, were usually approached or encircled by these orna- 
mental structures. Suetonius says that Nero lined the 
streets of Rome with one continued portico. One of the 
later emperors built a portico, with four rows of columns 
and one of pilasters, a mile in length ; and another erected 
one which extended two miles along the Flaminian Way, 
from the gate of the city to the Milvian Bridge. The 
entire Campus Martins was at one time enclosed by a con- 
tinuous portico. But the modern tourist sees nothing of 
any of these, except an arch or two of that of Octavia in 
the miserable fish-market of the Ghetto, and a brace of 
columns belonging to that of Pompey, of which Propertius 
sings so mournfully : 

" Though rich with tapestry from conquered East, 
Despised is now great Pompey's Portico; 
The plane-trees tall, in ordered ranks that rise ; 
And the pure streams, whose gentle murmurs late 
Lulled Maro's muse to rest." 



THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 257 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 

THE FAME OF THE TIBER — ITS REPUTATION VINDICATED THE CAMPUS 

MARTIUS ITS RUINED STRUCTURES MAUSOLEUM OF AUGUSTUS 

MAUSOLEUM OF HADRIAN ROMAN ARCHITECTURE ITS CHARACTER- 
ISTICS ITS HISTORY BORROMINI AND HIS SCHOOL REFLECTIONS. 

What Cicero said of Athens is now as true of Rome : 
"Wherever we move ; we tread upon some history." He 
who delights to range in thought over the past, and converse 
with the great minds of other days, here finds abundant 
occupation, and inexhaustible sources of pleasure. Every 
street suggests to him tbe memory of some heroic deed, and 
at every turn the ghost of some illustrious personage rises 
solemnly before him. The thoughtful tourist treads lightly 
as he ranges over the Seven Hills ; once so crowded with 
population, and graced with so many noble fabrics; now so 
scantily peopled, and covered everywhere with ruins. 

What river can equal in interest this same Tiber ? The 
Amazon and the Mississippi, which roll their mighty floods 
through forests of a thousand miles, are streams unknown to 
story and to song. The Thames, the Rhine, and the Danube 
have their history and their monumental ruins. The names 
of the Nile, the Jordan, the Tigris, and the Euphrates — ■ 
consecrated by miracle, and immortalized by the fortunes of 
the Chosen People — can never fail to attract the pious mind 



258 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

by their sacred associations. But the Tiber has other and 
peculiar charms — for the scholar first, and also for the Chris- 
tian. Its banks are the birthplace of our modern civiliza- 
tion and jurisprudence ; and hence we have derived the fire 
of eloquence and the inspiration of the muses. Its name is 
interwoven with our sc-hoolday memories; and its history 
for many centuries is the history of the world. Here the 
Caesars sat and ruled the nations ) hence Tully and Virgil 
still rule them. Here Paul, in chains, preached the gospel 
to the Gentiles, and wrote five at least of his fourteen Epis- 
tles ; and with him, a noble army of martyrs testified unto 
the death. 

These shores, now so dreary and silent, once swarmed 
with gay and busy life ; and were lined everywhere with gor- 
geous palaces and scenes of rural beauty. Pliny tells us 
that this single stream was adorned with more fine villas, 
and served as a prospect to more, than all the other rivers 
in the world. Doubtless some allowance should be made for 
Roman vanity ; but the Tiber was certainly unrivalled for 
the grandeur and magnificence of its numerous patrician 
residences. This statement applies not only to the golden 
days of Augustus and Trajan, but also to the iron age of Valen- 
tinian and Honorius, after Italy had long been the seat of 
civil war, and more than once the theatre of barbarian fury 
and G-othic devastation. I have often wished that Napoleon 
had been permitted to execute what some have been pleased 
to characterize as a crazy design — that of turning the stream 
from its course where it flows "through a marble wilder- 
ness •/' for besides the golden candlestick from the Temple 
at Jerusalem, what invaluable treasures of art, what relics 
of imperial splendor, must lie concealed beneath its yellow 
whirlpools ! 

Some travellers, absurdly measuring its mass of water by 
its bulk of fame, and finding its appearance inferior to their 



THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 259 

preconceptions of its majesty, have spoken of the Tiber as 
"an insignificant stream/' "a narrow and mnddy ditch," 
" scarcely worthy the name of a river." Dr. Burton says : 
" The Tiber is a stream of which classical recollections are 
apt to raise too favorable anticipations : when we think of 
the fleets of the capital of the world sailing np it, and pour- 
ing in their treasures of tributary kingdoms, we are likely 
to attach to it ideas of grandeur and magnificence ; but if 
we come to the Tiber with such expectations, our disap- 
pointment will be great." And great indeed was mine, for 
such representations had given me a very mean opinion of 
"Father Tiber;" but I found the old gentleman making a 
very respectable appearance, and fully justifying his ancient 
fame. As Hobhouse says : " It is not the muddy, insignifi- 
cant stream which the disappointment of overheated imagi- 
nations has described ; but one of the finest rivers of 
Europe, now rolling through a vale of gardens, and now 
sweeping the base of swelling acclivities, clothed with wood, 
and crowned with villas and their evergreen shrubberies." 
As facts are commonly better for information than rhapso- 
dies, let me assure my readers that its average breadth 
below the city, and for some distance above, is not less than 
four hundred feet; that steamboats ascend it sixty or 
seventy miles several times a week ; that it flows with a deep 
and rapid current, after the manner of our own Mississippi; 
and that it has frequently flooded the greater part of modern 
Rome, and threatened the dislodgment of the red-robed 
reverends of the Vatican. 

Many tourists pretend that they cannot see the propriety 
of the epi^iet " golden" applied so often to its waters ; 
and a certain female friend of mine, as thou shalt see, 
sensible reader, in her " Reflected Fragments," has 
fallen in with this " pestilent heresy." Against all such 
affectation of skepticism in matters classical, I beg leave to 



260 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

enter my solemn protest. Believe me, such, writers are not 
to be trusted. What confidence can be placed in the 
opinion of a lady who insists that the American mocking- 
bird sings as well as the Italian nightingale ? Evidently, 
she can have neither ear for music, nor eye for color. All 
antiquity unites in pronouncing the Tiber " golden ;" and 
whoever will put on the spectacles of the present scribe, and 
wander as he has done again and again along its banks at 
sunset, or look down upon it from the parapet of the Ponte 
Molle, or the battlements of the Castle of Sant' Angelo, 
under the full blaze of a May-day noon, will prove himself 
either mentally or chromatically defective, if he does not 
endorse the judgment of antiquity. 

I believe the lady referred to did not taste the water of 
the Tiber, nor did I insist upon her doing so, lest, with her 
usual perverseness, she should pronounce it neither sweet 
nor salubrious. Yet this water, " in the brave days of old," 
had a high reputation for these qualities. The Emperor 
Hadrian thought he could not live without it, and carried a 
supply with him in all his excursions from Koine. So 
thought and so did two subsequent infallibles — Clement the 
Seventh and Paul the Third — as very sensibly advised by 
their respective physicians. 

The Campus Martins, lying in a curve of the Tiber, be- 
tween it and the ancient city, was in the early ages of the 
republic an open field, devoted to military purposes. In 
process of time, some edifices of public utility were erected 
upon it, which under the empire grew into a city of palaces, 
theatres, porticoes, and temples, all of the most stately and 
magnificent architecture, surrounded with groves and shady 
walks, and arranged with due regard to prospective beauty. 
Viewed from the Janiculum, this superb array of public 
buildings, bordered in front by the Tiber, and closed behind 
by the glorious structures of the Capitol, and those of the 



THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 261 

Viminal and the Quirinal, with, the groves and gardens of 
the Pincian — then as now the Collis Hortulorum — must 
have presented a picture of astonishing beauty and variety, 
justifying the proud appellation so often bestowed on Rome 
— " The Temple and Abode of the Grods." 

It is difficult for us to conceive, and the few fragments 
which remain scarcely furnish us a hint of what must have 
been the grandeur and magnificence of the structures 
erected in the time of Home's greatest glory, by consuls and 
emperors wielding unlimited power, commanding inexhausti- 
ble resources, and every one aiming to surpass his predeces- 
sor. The majestic Claudian Tomb, as also that of Bibulus, 
against which Petrarch leaned talking with the noble 
Colonna, are heaps of ruin, whose original form even can no 
longer be determined. Pompey's Theatre is half subterra- 
nean, and its upper portions are occupied as stables. That 
of Marcellus is buried beneath an ill-shaped modern struc- 
ture, misnamed a palace, raised upon the ruins of its 
vaulted galleries. The magnificent Corinthian Portico, with 
its double row of lofty columns, and all their splendid brazen 
capitals, has totally disappeared. And where are now the 
luxurious baths of Nero and Agrippa ? The Pantheon alone 
survives — the proudest monument preserved of imperial 
Rome ; but the steps that conducted to its threshold, the 
marble that clothed its exterior, the bronze that blazed upon 
its ample dome, the silver that lined its lofty vault within, 
the statues that adorned its cornice and its niches, all have 
disappeared by the hands of the spoiler — barbarian and 
papal ; and the Pantheon, shorn of its beams, looks eclipsed 
through the disastrous twilight of eighteen hundred years. 

The largest structure of the Campus Martius was the 
Mausoleum of Augustus. Strabo represents it as a pendant 
garden, raised on lofty arches of white marble, planted with 
evergreen shrubs and trees, and terminating in a point. 



262 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

crowned with a bronze statue of the Emperor. At the en- 
trance of the vault where the mighty dead was deposited 
stood two Egyptian obelisks ; and all around was an exten- 
sive grove, cut into walks and alleys, adorned with statues, 
temples, porticoes, three theatres, and an amphitheatre; 
constituting altogether a spectacle astonishingly beautiful, 
from which the stranger could scarcely tear himself away. 
Of this vast monument the two inner walls, which supported 
the whole mass, and the spacious vaults under which reposed 
the imperial ashes, still remain — a fragment of great 
solidity > and suggestive of its original grandeur. The plat- 
form on the top was for a considerable time used for a gar- 
den, and covered with shrubs and flowers. Afterward it 
was converted into a sort of amphitheatre, where, twenty 
or thirty years ago, the pious subjects of His Holiness were 
regularly entertained with Sabbath bull-fights. Then bulls 
were abolished, and preachers were introduced as a substi- 
tute ) and for a few years the Mausoleum was a place of 
worship. It still stands, near the Ripetta, and not far from 
the Tiber — a stupendous ruin, owing its preservation to the 
thickness of its walls and the strength of its foundations ; 
but its pyramidal form is gone, and its pillars and statues 
are no more. 

The Emperor Hadrian, who delighted in architectural 
magnificence, determined to build for himself a tomb which 
should surpass that of Augustus. As the Campus llartius 
was already crowded with imposing structures, he selected a 
site on the other side of the Tiber, at the foot of Mons 
Vaticanus, where its isolation would render it more conspi- 
cuous. Here, on a vast quadrangular platform of stone, he 
raised a lofty circular edifice, surrounded by a Corinthian 
portico, supported by twenty-four pillars, of a beautiful 
kind of white marble, tinged with purple. The continua- 
tion of the inner wall formed a second story, adorned with 



THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 263 

Ionic pilasters ; and a dome, surmounted by a bronze cone, 
crowned the whole fabric, and gave it the appearance of a 
most majestic temple. To increase its splendor, four colossal 
statues occupied the four corners of the platform ; twenty- 
four adorned the portico, and filled the niches between the 
columns ; an equal number rose above the entablature, and 
another series stood between the pilasters of the upper story. 
All these statues were the works of the best masters, and 
the whole building was cased with fine marble. This monu- 
ment, called Moles Hadriani, was deemed the ncblest sepul- 
chral edifice ever erected, and one of the proudest ornaments 
of Rome, even when she shone in all her imperial magnifi- 
cence. Yet its glory was transitory. Its matchless 
grandeur claimed in vain the protection of absent emperors. 
The genius of Hadrian, and the manes of the virtuous, 
Antonini, pleaded ineffectually for its preservation. The 
hand of time defaced its ornaments, the zeal of Honorius 
stripped it of its sculptured beauties, and the military skill 
of Belisarius turned it into a temporary fortress. The ne- 
cessity of such a stronghold became from this period daily 
more apparent. Threatened first by the Lombards, then by 
the German emperors, and afterward by its own lawless 
nobles, the. government saw the importance of securing a 
permanent post; and found none more defensible, both by 
situation and by structure, than the Moles Hadriani, which 
commanded the river, and from its internal solidity might 
defy all the ancient means of assault. The parts which 
remain, therefore, are such as were adapted to this purpose ; 
that is, a portion of its basement or platform, and almost the 
whole of the central circular building, though denuded of 
all its ornaments. The marbles . disappeared at an early 
day, having been employed in other buildings, and many of 
them burned into lime ; the pillars were transported to the 
Basilica of San Paolo fuori la Mura, whose nave they still 



264 A TEAR IN EUROPE. 

adorn ; the statues, despised in a barbarous age, were 
dashed to pieces, built into the wall, or hurled down upon 
the heads of the assailants ; the brazen cone or pine-apple 
stands in a garden in one of the squares of the Vatican 
Palace ; and the sarcophagus which held the imperial 
ashes is said to be one of those in the Corsini Chapel of 
San Giovanni in Laterano. In the course of tirne^ various 
bastions, ramparts, and outworks were added ; several houses 
for soldiers, provisions, magazines, and so forth, were raised 
around; and some very considerable edifices, containing 
spacious apartments, erected on the solid mass of the sepiil- 
chre itself. It takes its present name, Gastel Sant' Angelo, 
from its appropriation as the Roman citadel, and from the 
statue of an angel standing with outspread wings upon its 
summit. I descended into its dismal vaults, and read the 
name of Hadrian, Commodus, Antoninus Pius, and others 
of the imperial line. And there was the dungeon where 
poor Beatrice Cenci spent two dreary years before her cruel 
execution, with an Italian sentence which she had scratched 
with a nail upon the wall. And there was the cell once 
occupied by the fiery genius, Benvenuto Cellini ; and I saw 
the place from which he fell in trying to make his escape, 
and grieved for his broken leg. And there were the apart- 
ments of the Holy Inquisition, well filled at present with 
French soldiers of the merriest mood; and the spacious 
saloons, covered with frescoes by no means modest, to which 
the Infallible Head of the Church fled through his covered 
way from the Vatican, when he deemed the fortress safer 
than his palace. Then I ascended to the summit, and 
stood beneath the wings of the bronze angel, and looked 
down on 

"Rome's immortal ruins — 
Temples on temples hurled, and tombs on tombs." 



THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 265 

Is this the Mother of Nations, the Mistress of the World ? 
Nay, this is but her mouldering skeleton, the shreds of her 
wasted shroud, the remnant of her shattered sepulchre. 
Deep under the debris of fifteen centuries lies the Rome that 
was, and over her ashes has arisen another Rome, whose 
stately palaces and gorgeous churches hut faintly commemo- 
rate her perished glory. 

To one hut little accustomed to works of unusual gran- 
deur and magnificence, it must be exceedingly difficult to 
form any adequate conception of the majesty and beauty of 
ancient Rome. Strabo, who had traversed Greece in every 
direction, and must have been intimately acquainted with 
the finest things in his own country, and was doubtless, like 
all other Greeks, intensely partial to its glory, describes Rome 
as surpassing expectation, and defying all human competi- 
tion. Constantius, called an " unfeeling prince," who had 
visited all the cities of the East, and was familiar with the 
most superb exhibitions of oriental taste and splendor, was 
struck dumb with admiration, as he proceeded in triumphal 
pomp through the city of the Caesars. But when he came 
to the Forum of Trajan, and beheld all the wonders of that 
matchless structure, he burst into exclamations of astonish- 
ment and delight. Fixing his eyes upon the equestrian 
statue before the basilica, he exclaimed : " Where shall we 
find such another horse ?" To which a Persian prince, who 
accompanied him, replied : "Suppose we find the horse, who 
will build him such another stable V 

If the Greeks, so jealous of the arts and edifices of their 
native land — if the emperors of the East, admiring so 
much their own capital, and looking with envy upon the 
ornaments of the ancient city, were thus obliged to pay an 
involuntary tribute to her superior beauty, we may certainly 
pardon the enthusiasm of the Romans themselves, when they 
speak of it as an epitome of the universe, and an abode 
12 



266 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

worthy of the gods. And if Virgil, when Augustus had 
only begun his projected improvements, and the magnificence 
of Rome was in its dawn, called it the fairest city that the 
world could boast, we may perhaps conjecture what it must 
have been in the days of Adrian, when it had received its 
final decorations, and blazed in its full meridian splendor. 

Ephesus had its Temple of Diana; Athens boasted its 
Parthenon, and Rhodes its Colossus ; London has its West- 
minster Abbey, and its Saint Paul's ; Paris its Tuileries, and 
its Notre Dame; Cologne and Milan, each its gorgeous 
Gothic Cathedral; Florence its incomparable Campanile; 
and modern Rome its unrivalled Basilica Vaticanus. . But 
ancient Rome, not, like any of these, distinguished for some 
single edifice, or for several, presented to the eye a continu- 
ous succession of architectural wonders, and exhibited in 
every view groups and lines of magnificent structures, any 
one of which, taken separately, would have been sufficient to 
constitute the characteristic ornament of any other city in 
the world. 

When we survey what remains of its ruins — its forums, 
temples, palaces, porticoes, basilicas, mausoleums, triumphal 
arches, monumental columns, statues and obelisks, baths and 
fountains, cloacas and aqueducts, circuses, theatres, and 
amphitheatres, with all its elaborate sculpture, and mosaic 
work, and innumerable costly decorations — we are over- 
whelmed with astonishment and admiration at the hint thus 
given of its ancient grandeur and magnificence. 

Where, at the present day, if we except Saint Peter's, 
which is built of the spoils of antiquity, shall we find a reli- 
gious edifice equal in beauty to the Pantheon, in magnitude 
to the Basilica of Constantine, or in wealth and splendor to 
the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus ? The tombs of Augus- 
tus, Hadrian, and Cecilia Metella, in material, altitude, and 
ornament, equalled, perhaps excelled, the Halicarnassean 



THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 267 

Mausoleum ; and all the theatres of Greece sank into insig- 
nificance before the enormous circumference of the Flavian 
Amphitheatre. 

The public buildings of ancient Rome were all supported 
by pillars of granite and marble, often of the finest quality 
and the most elaborate workmanship, each shaft consisting 
of a single block. When we consider this circumstance, and 
think of the countless multitude of these ornaments, the 
colonnades which adorned the courts and fronts of all the more 
important edifices, and the stately porticoes, some of them a 
mile or two in length, which surrounded and led to them, we 
are enabled, perhaps, to form a proximate idea of the magni- 
ficence which must have resulted from the frequent recur- 
rence and ever-varying combinations of such pillared per- 
spectives; and we cease to wonder that so many superb frag- 
ments are still found among the ruins, and that ancient 
Rome, after so many centuries of research, is still an unex- 
hausted quarry; and probably the specimens disinterred bear 
no proportion to the numbers which still lie buried beneath 
the surface. Well might the Romans speak of their city 
with pride, foreigners behold it with astonishment, and even 
the calm philosopher in its contemplation kindle into poetic 
raptures. " When these wonders are all collected," says 
Pliny, " and as it were thrown together in a heap, there 
arises an infinity of grandeur, as if in that one spot we were 
giving an account of another world." 

The Romans derived their architectural taste and skill 
less from the Greeks than from their Etruscan neighbors, 
who built massive structures in Italy when Grecian architec- 
ture was yet in its infancy, and who in their works seem con- 
stantly to have kept in view those great qualities which give 
excellence without the aid of ornament — commanding ad- 
miration by their own intrinsic merit. The early architec- 
ture of Rome was entirely Etruscan, as the remains of all its 



268 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

most ancient structures abundantly testify. Its chief char- 
acteristics were solidity, simplicity, and grandeur. It resem- 
bled, in these respects, the Egyptian ; with forms less gigan- 
tic, but more graceful. The Cloaca Maxima, constructed in 
the reign of Tarquinius Superbus, is as perfect now as in the 
day of its completion ; and the mighty substructions of the 
Capitol, and the vaults of the Tabularium, now seen under 
the palace of the Roman senator, if allowed to remain undis- 
turbed, will be found thousands of years to come. These 
great edifices were of public utility— say, rather, of public 
necessity ; and their grandeur and magnificence were the 
result of their destination, not the object of their erection. 
Such were the productions of the first era of Roman archi- 
tecture. 

The second produced the famous roads and aqueducts 
which are to this day among its noblest monuments, and a 
few tombs and temples whose ruins are still admired for their 
simple majesty and strength. The third commenced with 
Augustus, who was content to inhabit a mansion compara- 
tively plain, while he lavished his munificence upon the 
improvement and embellishment of the city. During this 
period, the .magnificence which characterized the Roman 
taste was by no means confined to the most important and 
permanent public edifices, but showed itself even in build- 
ings erected for transient and occasional amusements of the 
people. Two instances merit attention. One is that of the 
Edile Marcus Scaurus, who built a temporary theatre, capa- 
ble of containing eighty thousand persons, and adorned it 
with three hundred and sixty columns of marble, and three 
thousand statues of bronze. The other, perhaps, was still 
more astonishing in execution, though less imposing in ap- 
pearance — the ei'ection of a stupendous wooden edifice, by 
Curio, for the celebration of funeral games in honor of his 
father, so contrived that the seats revolved, forming at 



THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 269 

pleasure a theatre or an amphitheatre, without the removal 
of the spectators. These are instances of the prodigality of 
magnificence, and as such they are justly censured by the 
elder Pliny, who ranks them far below the more permanent 
and useful works of the Marcian and Julian aqueducts. Yet 
these were stupendous structures, stupendous in design and 
in execution ; and they show the natural tendency of the 
Roman mind to the grand and wonderful in architecture. 

Nero was the first who ventured to expend the public 
treasures in the erection of an imperial residence ; and he 
built the Domus Aurea — the golden house — which covered 
the Palatine Hill, and extended over a large portion of the 
Coelean; a palace which, for beauty and magnificence, pro- 
babably has never been surpassed ; and which was partially 
demolished by his successor, as too gorgeous even for an 
emperor. But baths, forums, temples, porticoes, mauso- 
leums, triumphal arches, and monumental columns, still con- 
tinued the favorite objects of imperial pride and expense; 
and Rome for three centuries constantly increased in archi- 
tectural beauty. 

Under Diocletian, the empire was divided — the sovereign 
translated to the east, and the capital of the world left to 
the fury and rapacity of the barbarian. With this com- 
menced the fourth era, marked too evidently by declining 
taste, in connection with much of the ancient grandeur. 
The most remarkable edifices of this period were those 
erected by Constantine and the Christian emperors, generally 
after the model, and often with the very materials, of 
the old basilicas. All the churches reared from the fifth cen- 
tury to the fifteenth were constructed of the most costly 
materials; but those materials were generally heaped together 
with very little regard to proper order, proportion, or sym- 
metry. 

At length came a better day. The dawn of Science and 



270 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the Arts succeeded to the stormy night of barbarism. 
Genius was encouraged. The Roman Pontiffs diligently 
sought the best architects, and liberally rewarded their 
labors. These found the finest of materials ready to their 
hand, and the noblest of models constantly before their eyes. 
What was the result ? Did they copy the admirable forms 
and proportions of antiquity ? No : they foolishly sought to 
surpass them. Of course, they failed ; and their failure 
proves, that in proportion as we deviate from the ancient 
copies, we deviate from perfection. The architecture of 
modern Rome, therefore, is characterized by the novel, the 
whimsical, the extravagant, and the grotesque. The finest 
materials have been turned to the most insignificant and use- 
less purposes; and the grand symmetry of the old basilicas 
and temples has been exchanged for the most fantastical 
forms and the most absurd proportions. 

Few modern architects have had greater popularity than 
Borromini, who flourished in the seventeenth . century. He 
sought to imitate the soaring genius of Michael Angelo, and 
the result was a ridiculous violation of all rule and pro- 
priety. His successors, preferring his extravagances to the 
simpler majesty of Bramante and Palladio, have left the 
traces of their folly in nearly all the new edifices of the city, 
and the recent repairs and restorations of the old. Every- 
where we meet with twisted, coupled, or inverted pillars, 
often supporting nothing, or hid away in niches and recesses; 
with different orders, grouped in the same story, or blended 
in the same object; with pediments and pilasters, varied 
without necessity, and multiplied beyond all propriety ; with 
low stories, called " mezzanini," having short columns, lit- 
tle windows, and contracted balconies, introduced between 
the principal stories ; with broken or interrupted cornices, 
alternate angles and curves, arcs of circles resembling ruined 
arches, lines for ever advancing and receding, a dazzling dis- 



THE TIBER AND THE CAMPUS MARTIUS. 271 

play of gilded fretwork, and a prodigal exhibition of various 
splendid ornaments. 

I speak only of the prevailing mode. There is some fine 
architecture in Rome ; and passing by Saint Peter's, I would 
mention with deference the magnificent basilica of Santa 
Maria Maggiora; the grand but rather too gorgeous struc- 
ture of Santa Maria Sopra Minerva ; and the new Cathedral 
of Saint Paul, without the walls. The grandeur of some of 
these modern structures, combined with the majesty of the 
ancient monuments, induced Manton to observe, " that Rome 
is a map of the world in relievo, presenting to the eye the 
united wonders of Egypt, of Asia, and of Greece." 

But the glory of man is as the flower of the field. The 
wind passes over it, and it is gone. Even bronze and marble 
will perish; and the beauty and magnificence which flou- 
rished proudly for a season, and were fondly deemed immortal, 
have faded, and fallen to decay. Nothing remains of ancient 
Rome, but one dismantled temple, a few dilapidated arches 
and columns, and sundry heaps of mouldering ruins ; and a 
few centuries more may strew the seven hills, and the 
Campus Martius, with the wrecks of her modern successor; 
and the future traveller may pause and wonder over the 
relics of pontifical splendor, as we now do over those of im- 
perial opulence ; and when I recollect what Rome has been 
for ages — Saint Paul's " mystery of iniquity" — Saint John's 
"mother of abominations" — the "beast" and "dragon," 
emblazoned all over with "blasphemy" — the "harlot" and 
" sorceress," making "merchandise of souls," and "drunken 
with the blood of the saints," I cannot help crying with 
those who call from beneath the altar, "How long, Lord, 
how lon°; ?" 



272 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

HISTORIC NOTICES. 

ROME UNDER THE EMPERORS EXTENT OF THE CITY ESTIMATE OF 

POPULATION VICE AND LUXURY GOTHIC DEVASTATION FEUDS OF 

THE NOBLES ROME OF THE MIDDLE AGES PILLAGE BY THE IM- 
PERIAL TROOPS PAPAL RESTORATIONS AND IMPROVEMENTS — SIXTUS. 

THE FIFTH SUBSEQUENT POPES FRENCH OCCUPATION UNDER NAPO- 
LEON PIO NONO. 



Mighty is the spirit of the past amid the ruins of the Eternal City. 

Longfellow. 



"I found it of brick; I shall leave it of marble." So 
said Augustus of Rome, and history verifies the word. From 
the reign of this emperor dates the architectural splendor of 
the city. Utility, not ornament, had hitherto been aimed 
at in the public buildings ; and the dwellings of princes and 
patricians, however spacious, were comparatively unadorned. 
Now arose magnificent palaces, theatres, and temples ; and 
stately colonnades of snowy marble crowned the Capitoline 
Hill, and crowded the Campus Martius. Claudius followed 
in the footsteps of Augustus; and Nero outdid them both, 
in taste as much as cruelty. Trajan contributed largely to 
the improvement of the public works ; and Hadrian expended 
for the same purpose immense labor and treasure. Then 
came the Antonini, with redoubled assiduity; whose ex- 



HISTORIC NOTICES. 273 

ample was so effective, that every wealthy citizen deemed it 
both a duty and an honor to aid in beautifying the metro- 
polis. Rome became a city of palaces and temples, adorned 
everywhere with lofty porticoes, triumphal arches, Egyptian 
obelisks, monumental columns, colossal statues, stupendous 
aqueducts ; with numerous baths and fountains, groves and 
gardens, lakes and reservoirs, for the public convenience ; 
and numerous circuses and naumachias, theatres and amphi- 
theatres, and other similar institutions, for the public amuse- 
ment. 

Meanwhile the population so increased that it was neces- 
sary to extend the limits of the city. The wall of Servius 
Tullius was seven miles in circuit; that of Aurelian, thirteen 
miles. "'If any man," says Dionysius, "beholding the 
buildings which had sprung up, wished to calculate the size 
of the city, he would certainly have erred, since he could 
not have found any mark to distinguish how far the town 
spread, and where it ended, insomuch that the suburbs 
united to Rome gave the spectator the idea of a city ex- 
tended ad infinitum." This description relates to the time 
of Augustus. Of course, the Tullian wall was useless for 
the defence of the suburbs ; and therefore the Aurelian, at 
a later period of the empire, was thrown around the whole. 
Many ancient structures, as they stood, were taken into the 
line of this new enclosure; such as the Pretorian Barracks, 
the Castrensian Amphitheatre, the Pyramid of Caius Cestius, 
and the arches of the Claudian and Marcian Aqueducts; 
which still being conspicuous, give to this venerable rampart 
a most singular and interesting appearance. 

The population of Rome, at any given period, is a matter 
somewhat difficult to determine. The vagueness of the 
data on which our calculations must be based, renders hope- 
less any attempt at a definite conclusion. As might be 
expected, therefore, modern investigations of the subject 
12* 



274 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

differ widely in their results, the estimates of some learned 
men being three or four times as great as those of others. 
Dureau, in his Economic Politique des Romains, sets down 
the population, for the period of Rome's greatest prosperity, 
at 562,000 souls. Hoch, in his Romiche Geschichte, esti- 
mates it at 2,265,000. Dequincey, in the Caesars, thinks it 
amounted to not less than 4,000,000, and perhaps half as 
many more. Lipsius, in his work De Magnitudine Romano. , 
carries it up to the astonishing number of 8,000,000. Dr. 
Smith, in the article Roma, in his Dictionary of Greek and 
Roman Geography, has dealt largely and learnedly with the 
question, basing his calculation on the number of citizens 
who received the imperial largesses, doubtless the surest data 
on which we can rely. Proceeding thus, he concludes that 
the male plebeian population of Rome, during the first cen- 
turies of the empire, must have numbered not less than 
350,000 ; and at least twice as many must be added for the 
women and children, giving a total of 1,050,000. Then, by 
another elaborate process, he fixes the number of knights 
and senators at the moderate figure of 15,000 ; and allowing 
a wife and one child to every man, makes the whole number 
of individuals composing the equestrian and senatorial 
families 45,000. These sums give a total of 1,090,000, for 
all the free inhabitants, of all classes. To these he adds the 
aliens and foreigners residing at Rome, amounting, as he 
modestly supposes, with their families, to 100,000; and the 
soldiers and police, with their families, to 50,000 ; which, 
added to the foregoing, makes 1,245,000, for the entire mis- 
cellaneous free population of the city. Concerning the 
number of slaves, there is no satisfactory data, only it is 
known to have been very great; many persons, as Tigellius, 
owning 200 ; others, as Pedanius Secundus, 400. Dr. Smith 
sets down the number of domestic slaves at 500,000; and 
those employed in trades, manufactures, the service of public 



HISTORIC NOTICES. 275 

officers, and so forth, at 300,000 j making in all 800,000. 
This number, added to that of the free inhabitants, gives 
a total of 2,045,000, for the whole population of Rome, in 
the time of Vespasian and Trajan. By another calculation, 
based on data entirely different, our author makes it 
2,075,000. On the whole, we may safely say, perhaps, it 
was not less than 2,000,000. 

The emperors, in general, sought not the extension of the 
Roman dominion, but were satisfied with the preservation of 
what the republic had won. Augustus bequeathed to his 
successors a valuable legacy, in his advice to confine the 
empire within those limits which nature seemed to have pre- 
scribed; and this was still its extent in the time of the 
Antonini; from the Atlantic to the Euphrates, and from the 
Rhine and the Danube to the deserts of Africa and Arabia; 
more than three thousand miles one way, and two thousand 
the other; embracing an area of sixteen hundred thousand 
square miles, and comprehending the whole civilized world, 
with many barbarous nations. After Antoninus Pius, pub- 
lic virtue rapidly declined, and high places became rife with 
corruption. Then the empire was divided, and at length 
put up for sale to the highest bidder, and ruled by a succes- 
sion of the most despicable mercenary tyrants. Alexander 
Severus, Claudius II., Aurelian, Tacitus, and Probus, each 
in his turn, stemmed the torrent of vice, and averted for a 
season the impending ruin. But when Constantine trans- 
ferred the imperial seat to Byzantium, Rome became an easy 
prey, and was several times sacked and burned by the bar- 
barians. The luxurious and effeminate habits of the 
Romans rendered them indifferent to the public interest, and 
disqualified them for self-protection. When Alaric came, he 
found them sunk to the lowest degree of vicious effeminacy, 
void of all noble and patriotic sentiments, and wholly ab- 
sorbed with these two great thoughts — " panem et circeitses." 



276 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

That this satirical representation of an earlier time was now 
more than ever applicable, appears from the following 
description by Ammianus Marcellinus : 

" Their long robes of purple silk float in the wind ; and as 
they are agitated by art or accident, they discover the under- 
garments, the rich tunics, embroidered with the figures of 
various animals. Followed by a train of fifty servants, and 
tearing up the pavement in their impetuous course, they rush 
along the streets as if travelling with post-horses. And the 
example of the senators is boldly imitated by the matrons 
and ladies, whose covered carriages are continually driving 
round the immense space of the city and suburbs. When- 
ever these persons of high distinction condescend to visit the 
public baths, they assume a tone of loud and insolent com- 
mand, and appropriate to their own use the conveniences 
which were designed for the Roman people. As soon as 
they have indulged themselves in the refreshments of the 
bath, they resume their rings, and the other ensigns of their 
dignity ; select from their private wardrobe of the finest linen, 
such as might suffice for a dozen persons, the garments most 
agreeable to their fancy; and maintain till their departure 
the same haughty demeanor, which perhaps might have been 
excused in the great Marcellus, after the conquest of Syra- 
cuse. Sometimes, indeed, these heroes undertake more 
arduous achievements, visiting their estates in Italy, and 
procuring for themselves, by the toil of servile hands, the 
amusements of the chase. If at any time, but more especi- 
ally in a hot day, they have the courage to sail in their 
painted galleys from the Lucrine Lake to their elegant villas 
on the sea-coast of Puteoli and Caieta, they compare their 
expeditions to the marches of Caesar and Alexander. Yet 
should a fly presume to settle on the silken folds of their 
gilded umbrellas, or should a sunbeam penetrate through 
some unobserved and imperceptible chink, they complain of 



HISTORIC NOTICES. 277 

their intolerable hardships, and lament that they were not 
born in the land of the Cimmerians, the region of perpetual 
darkness." 

Such were the Roman nobility. No wonder the barbarian 
found them an easy prey. Their slaves and domestics, 
trained in such a school, and longing to revenge their many 
wrongs, were ready for any act of treachery. At midnight, 
the Salarian gate was opened, and the sound of the Gothic 
trumpet awoke the slumbering city. Of the scene of fury 
and indiscriminate slaughter which ensued, it were vain to 
attempt the description. Many fine buildings were burned, 
and the remains of the Sallustian palace still attest the con- 
flagration. Others were rudely stripped of their splendid 
furniture ; and sideboards of massy plate, and wardrobes of 
silk and purple, were promiscuously piled into the wagons 
of the conqueror. The most exquisite works of art were 
wantonly destroyed : marble statues shattered by the battle- 
axe, those of bronze melted down for the sake of the metal, 
with rich vases of gold and silver. Six days proceeded the 
work of pillage and devastation, at the end of which the once 
proud mistress of the world presented a spectacle for univer- 
sal pity. 

During the reign of Theodosius, in the year 426, the 
Christians destroyed many of the ancient temples, digging 
up their very foundations. Then came the Vandals and the 
Moors, in 455, and repeated for fourteen days the scenes be- 
fore enacted by the Goths. They despoiled the imperial 
palace, stripped the gilt bronze from the roofs of the capitol, 
transferred to the ships of Genseric whatever of value they 
could find, and with the empress and many noble captives 
conveyed it away to Africa. In 472 the city was again 
sacked by Recimer, whose rapacity was equalled only by his 
cruelty. About 540, Vitiges desolated the Campagna, and 
destroyed the aqueducts. In 546 Totila the Goth demolished 



278 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

much of the wall, pulled down many palaces, and drove the 
people into exile. 

The Romans themselves now carried on the work which 
the barbarians had begun. The monuments of consular or 
imperial greatness, no longer revered, were regarded only as 
cheap and convenient quarries ; and the degenerate nobles 
destroyed the works of their ancestors, to rebuild the city or 
adorn their own dwellings. Many massive structures were 
demolished to repair the walls, the tomb of the Scipios fur- 
nished the chief material for several palaces, the marble 
which encased the sepulchre of Csecilia Metella was burned 
into lime, and the churches were beautified with columns of 
serpentine, alabaster, pavonazzetto, giallo antico, and oriental 
granite, from the ancient baths and theatres. Conflagra- 
tions, inundations, and earthquakes aided the work of ruin. 
In the seventh and eighth centuries, famine and pestilence 
repeatedly threatened the depopulation of the place. Misery 
and wretchedness, scarcely equalled in the history of the 
world, now overspread Italy, and that beautiful country was 
reduced almost to the condition of a desert. In the latter 
part of the eleventh century, the Normans and Saracens, 
under Robert Gruiscard, ravaged the city with fire and sword; 
but the havoc which they wrought was exceeded by the 
effects of the civil wars which followed. Rome at this time 
consisted of churches, monasteries, and huge unshapely 
towers, mingling with the glorious monuments of antiquity 
which still remained. The ferocious aristocracy erected 
some new fortresses, but generally seized upon the finest 
structures of the empire, .and converted them into fortifica- 
tions during their bloody feuds. These detestable wretches 
neither respected the living nor revered the dead. Monu- 
ments of the piety of other ages, the sacred resting-places of 
sages, heroes and emperors, they desecrated and abused. 
The tombs of Augustus, Hadrian, and Cecilia Metella, were 



HISTORIC NOTICES. 279 

occupied as fortresses, and battered by the projectiles of war. 
A writer of those times regrets that though what remained 
could never be equalled, what had been ruined could never 
be repaired. And Petrarch thus eloquently deplores the 
fate of the Historic City : " Behold the relics of Rome, the 
image of her pristine greatness ! Neither time nor the bar- 
barian can boast the merit of this stupendous destruction. 
It was perpetrated by her own citizens, by the most illustri- 
ous of .her sons ; and your ancestors have done with the 
battering-ram, what the Punic hero could not accomplish 
with the sword." 

During the absence of the popes, in the thirteenth and 
fourteenth centuries, while they held their seat at Avignon, 
the Neapolitans carried off much valuable material for the 
decoration of their own capital, and Rome was wasted by 
numerous depredations. "When Eugenius IV.," says 
Ranke, " returned to Rome in the year 1443, it was become 
a city of herdsmen ; its inhabitants were not distinguishable 
from the peasants of the neighboring country. The hills 
had long been abandoned, and the only part inhabited was 
the plain along the windings of the Tiber; there was no 
pavement in the narrow streets, and these were rendered yet 
darker by the balconies and buttresses which propped one 
house against another. The cattle wandered about as in a 
village. From San Silvestro to the Porta del Popolo, all was 
garden and marsh, the haunt of flocks of wild ducks. The 
very memory of antiquity seemed almost effaced; the Capitol 
was become the Groat's Hill, the Forum Romanum the Cows' 
Field ; the strangest legends were associated with the few 
remaining monuments." 

The return of the pope was the signal for renewed violence 
on the part of the Romans themselves. The people and the 
Church were arrayed against each other, the Colonna and 
Orsini families contended for the towers, fortifications were 



280 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

erected on every ruin, and Rome was again battered by 
engines, and deluged with blood. Then came " the learned 
Poggius," and sat him down upon a shattered column on 
the Capitoline Hill, and mused in this melancholy mood over 
the sad vicissitudes of the Eternal City : 

" Her primaeval state, such as she might appear in a 
remote age, when Evander entertained the stranger of Troy, 
has been delineated by the fancy of Virgil. This Tarpeian 
rock was then a savage and solitary thicket : in the time of 
the poet, it was crowned with the golden roofs of a temple; 
the temple is overthrown, the gold has been pillaged, the 
wheel of fortune has accomplished her revolution, and the 
sacred ground is again disfigured with thorns and bram- 
bles. The hill of the Capitol, on' which we sit, was formerly 
the head of the Roman empire, the citadel of the earth, the 
terror of kings; illustrated by the footsteps of so many 
triumphs, enriched with the spoils and tributes of so many 
nations. This spectacle of the world, how is it fallen ! 
how changed ! how defaced ! the path of victory is obli- 
terated by vines, and the benches of the senators are con- 
cealed by a dunghill. Cast your eyes on the Palatine Hill, 
and seek, among the shapeless and enormous fragments, 
the marble theatre, the obelisks, the colossal statues, the 
porticoes of Nero's palace : survey the other hills of the 
city, the vacant space is interrupted only by ruins and 
gardens. The Forum of the Roman people, where they 
assembled to enact their laws and elect their magistrates, is 
now enclosed for the cultivation of pot-herbs, or thrown 
open for the reception of swine and buffaloes. The public 
and private edifices, that were founded for eternity, lie 
prostrate, naked and broken, like the limbs of a mighty 
giant; and the ruin is the more visible from the stupendous 
relics that have survived the injuries of time and fortune." 

Pope Nicholas resolutely began the work of restoration. 



HISTORIC NOTICES. 281 

Julius II. followed nobly iu his footsteps. Under him arose 
the magnificent Basilica of St. Peter. He also restored the 
Palace of the Vatican, added the Loggie, founded the Muse- 
um, and completed the Cancellaria. His cardinals and 
barons emulated his example, and erected palaces which are 
still the grandest in Rome. Farnese built his with blocks 
of travertine from the Coliseum ; Chigi employed in the de- 
coration of his the matchless hand of Raffaello ; the Medici 
filled theirs with every treasure of literature and art ; the 
Orsini beautified theirs, within and without, with the most 
costly productions of the pencil and the chisel ; and Francesco 
di Riaro boasted that his would stand till tortoises should 
crawl over the face of the earth. 

Other improvements were made under Leo the Tenth. 
" The ruins of Rome," says Ranke, " were regarded with a 
kind of religious veneration : in them the divine spark of 
the antique spirit was recognized with a sort of rapture." 
The pope sought to preserve the remains of the ancient city, 
and labored to increase the architectural beauty of the new. 
It was a time of great emulation and universal prosperity. 
Men of genius and talent were sought out and encouraged. 
The population grew rapidly; many fine buildings arose 
upon the Campo Marzo, and Rome soon recovered much of 
her former wealth and splendor. 

Then came that terrible era in the annals of Roman mis- 
fortune, the siege and occupation of the city by the troops 
of Charles the Fifth, in 1527. " Never," says Whiteside, 
" did a richer booty fall into the hands of a more remorseless 
army ; never was there a more protracted and mote ruinous 
pillage." It proceeded without interruption four months, 
and the fury of the Goths and Vandals was the very bland- 
ness of Christian charity in the comparison. " The splen- 
dor of Rome," says Ranke, " fills the beginning of the 
sixteenth century, marking the astonishing period of devel- 



282 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

opnient of the human mind ; with this day it was extin- 
guished for ever." 

Pius the Fourth, in 1559, conceived the project of 
building again on the deserted hills. He founded the 
palace of the Conservatori on Monte Gapitolwo / and 
employed Michael Angelo to construct, out of the ruins of 
the Baths of Diocletian on the Viminale, the magnificent 
church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. In 1585 Sixtus the 
Fifth ascended the papal throne, and stamped his name im- 
perishably upon Rome. To the taste of a Franciscan monk 
uniting the ambition and enterprise of the Caesars, he 
demolished " the ugly antiquities," as he called them, and 
filled the modern city with splendor from their spoils. He 
tore down the beautiful Sejjtizoniuin of Severus, and trans- 
ferred its columns to the Basilica, Vaticanus. The sublime 
monument of Cascilia Metella, the only considerable vestige 
remaining of the old republic, he would have levelled to the 
ground, had he not been in good time prevented. The 
Laocoon and the Apollo Belvidere he could scarcely tolerate 
in the Vatican. He declared that the Jupiter Tonans 
should be removed from the Capitol, or he would pull down 
the building : he would have no heathen gods in his 
Christian Rome. The Minerva he suffered to remain, hav- 
ing converted her, by taking the spear out of her hand, and 
putting in its place an enormous cross. In a similar manner 
he converted the monumental columns of Trajan and 
Antonine ; placing Saint Peter with the keys upon the 
former, and Saint Paul with a sword upon the latter; 
imagining that by such means he gave a triumph to Chris- 
tianity over Paganism. With immense labor he reared the 
fine Egyptian obelisk in front of Saint Peter's, enclosing 
"a piece of the true- cross" upon its summit; also that in 
the Piazza, del Popolo, and those near the Santa Maria 
Maggiore and the San Giovanni in Laterano. He laid out 



HISTORIC NOTICES. 283 

several fine streets, and built the steps from the Piazza di 
Spagna to the Trinita de' Monti. He repaired the Mer- 
cian Aqueduct, christening it Aqua Felice, which feeds 
twenty-seven fountains, and yields more than twenty thou- 
sand cubic feet of water a day. In this great work, as he 
declares, he suffered himself " to be deterred by no diffi- 
culty or expense in order that those hills, which, even in 
early Christian times, were graced with basilicas, distin- 
guished for the salubrity of the air, the pleasantness of the 
situation, and the beauty of the views, might once more be 
inhabited." He took the bronze from the roof of the Pan- 
theon, to make the magnificent baldichino, with its huge 
twisted columns, over the high altar of Saint Peter's. The 
dome of that wondrous structure was still wanting ; and so 
anxious was he to see it completed, that he employed six 
hundred men upon it night and day for three years and a 
half, though he did not live to witness the consummation of 
the work. Thus the papal despot effected some of the most 
useful improvements in Rome, while he destroyed many of 
the finest remains of antiquity. 

The condition of the city in the middle of the sixteenth 
century, however, was still, for the mass of the inhabitants, 
sufficiently miserable. Ostentatious display was preferred to 
popular utility. The nobles dwelt in sumptuous palaces, 
peopled with the precious things of art, and surrounded 
with spacious gardens and shady avenues ; while the mal- 
ordinate casaccie of the common people, propped up with 
buttresses, and crumbling in ruinous decay, were situated in 
narrow, dirty, and unventilated lanes. What is now the 
Piazza del Popolo was a huddle of dilapidated buildings, 
more wretched in appearance than an American can well 
imagine. Alexander the Seventh was now upon the papal 
throne. Fortunately, the Queen of Sweden paid a visit to 
His Holiness. It was important that Her Majesty should 



284 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

have a grand passage whereby to enter the Capital of the 
Christian world. So the place was cleared of its ruinous 
encumbrances, and converted into the present spacious 
piazza; which, with its twin crescents, twin fountains, twin 
churches, twin palaces, beautiful Egyptian obelisk, cypress- 
sbaded terrace along the Tiber, laurel hedges looking down 
from the Pincian acclivity, and three broad streets diverging 
fanwise through the city, is the most delightful locality of 
modern Rome. 

Pius the Sixth did something, Pius the Seventh more, 
toward the improvement and embellishment of the city ; 
but during its four years' occupation by the French under 
Napoleon, from 1809 to 1814, excavations and restorations 
were projected and begun, which, if the plan had been car-- 
ried out, would have proved an incalculable benefit. Eng- 
lish jealousy and prejudice have done great injustice to the 
French government in reference to its Italian conquests, and 
it has unfortunately been the fashion for English tourists 
and essayists to indulge in severe reflections against the 
French nation on that account. True, we cannot justify 
the rapacity which plundered so many palaces and churches 
of their finest ornaments, but neither ought we to overlook 
the enlightened and noble designs of the conqueror for the 
improvement of the Roman metropolis. The interesting 
work of the Emperor's Prifet, Count de Tournon, affords us 
some valuable information on this subject. The Italian 
campaign of 1798 he very properly condemns as an " irrup- 
tion sjooliatrice et revolutionaire," and then adds : " If, dur- 
ing that first invasion, Rome paid a portion of the tribute 
imposed by the conqueror in the sacrifice of her statues and 
her most precious pictures, during the second occupation 
Rome witnessed not only the religious preservation of what 
had been left her, but also the watchful care of the govern- 
ment for the restoration of her ancient monuments." 



HISTORIC NOTICES. 285 

Raffaello, in a curious letter to Leo the Tenth, had proposed 
the removal of the modern accumulations, the thorough 
clearance of the ground to the original level, bringing to 
light the foundations of consular and imperial Rome ; hut it 
was left for the stranger and usurper to undertake a work 
which the imbecile vicegerents of Jehovah did not care to 
execute. " What an inexhaustible mine of wealth," said 
that same Leo, " do we find the fable concerning Jesus 
Christ !"- albeit ten times as much of that wealth was squan- 
dered upon his pleasures as was devoted to the improvement 
of his capital. 

The French administration applied one million francs 
a year to this great enterprise, half of which was advanced 
from the treasury, the remainder furnished by the city. In 
order to carry out their project, it was necessary to purchase 
and pull down many modern dwellings, stables and granaries, 
churches and monasteries ; to dig trenches to carry off the 
rain-water, and build walls around the spaces excavated. 
They cleared the ground at the foot of the Capitoline 
Mount, and brought to light the ancient Rostra of the 
Great Forum, the marble podium of the temple of Concord, 
the three fine pillars which belonged to that of Vespasian, 
and what remains of the Portico of the Scuola Zanta. 
They demolished the unsightly structures which concealed 
the Triumphal Arch of Septimius Severus, and the stately 
porch of the Temple of Saturn ; isolated the column of 
Phocus, and those of the Curia Julia; and revealed the 
incompafable beauty of the structure erected by the Roman 
senate in honor of the conqueror of Jerusalem. They un- 
covered the marble pavement of the Basilica of Constantine, 
which lay some thirty feet beneath the surface, so that " the 
three colossal vaults recovered their grand proportions ;" 
and " laid bare the base of the Temple of Venus and Rome, 
where was found a prodigious quantity of precious remains 



286 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

of the Golden House of Nero." They removed the earth 
which had accumulated in the Portico of Antoninus and 
Faustina, and brought to view the bases of the columns of 
Cipoline marble ; at the foot of which was found, in perfect 
preservation, the pavement of the Via Sacra, " where seemed 
imprinted yet the steps of the conquerors marching to the 
Capitol, and those of the vanquished dragged to the Mamer- 
tine Prison." They cleared away the soil which had grown 
up on all sides around the Coliseum, strengthened its 
broken walls, cemented its gaping vaults, and uncovered the 
flags of its pavement; " so that this majestic monument, 
which was under the reign of Titus a bloody circus, under 
Diocletian the theatre of Christian martyrdom, in the mid- 
dle ages the fortress of the Frangipani, and in our days a 
sacredly-revered Calvary, will be able yet for a long time to 
justify the fine expression of Delille — 

' Sa mass indestructible a fatigue - le temps.' " 

They restored to the daylight the subterranean arabesques of 
the Baths of Titus ; disen°;a°"ed from the surrounding; era- 
naries the Arch of Janus Quadrifons ; demolished the 
dwellings which hid the Temples of Vesta and Fortuna 
Virilis ; cleared a large space around the column of Trajan 
and the Ulpian Basilica; began excavating the base of the 
Pantheon, and prepared for tearing down the hideous belfries 
which disfigure its beautiful facade ; took such measures as 
were necessary for the improvement and preservation of 
many of those ancient buildings which Constantine converted 
into churches; and, in short, projected a plan for the disin- 
terment of the venerable monuments of antiquity — the 
resurrection of imperial Rome. The details of this whole 
project, so important to archasology and the arts, are pre- 
sented in the map of the Count de Tournon — a noble 



HISTORIC NOTICES. 287 

design, which will never be executed under the papal ad- 
ministration. 

What has the present Napoleon done for Rome ? He has 
sent an army to bombard the city, brought back His Fugitive 
Infallibility from exile, forced upon a long-oppressed people 
a despotism which they heartily despise, and perpetuated a 
curse which has blighted Italy for ages. What has Pio 
Nono done for Rome ? He has blessed the faithful annually 
from the balcony of Saint Peter's, showed them occasionally 
the handkerchief of the blessed Santa Veronica, furnished 
them grand pyrotechnical displays upon the Pincio, given 
them dispensations from duty and indulgences for sin, made 
a pilgrimage or two in their behalf to the Holy House at 
Loretto, erected a Corinthian column to the Virgin in honor 
of her immaculate conception, laid the corner-stone of a 
convent at the lately opened catacomb of Sant' Alessandro, 
excavated a few furlongs of the ancient Appian Way, built 
bridges at Lariccia and Grensano, and otherwise improved 
the road to Graeta. And what, meanwhile, are the Roman 
people doing ? They are laughing bitterly at the imbecile 
dotard of the triple crown ; and execrating his master, the 
wily Antonelli ; and working a dark cuniculus beneath the 
Vatican palace ; and sending assassins and infernal machines 
to Paris ; and brooding in sullen wrath over the wrongs of 
their friends, who for eight years past have pined in dun- 
geons ; and appealing to Heaven against the double tyranny 
which they have so long silently endured. The day of 
redress must come — the day of redress and retribution. 
There is no hope for Antichrist : God hath written his doom. 
There is no hope for Italy, but in the predicted subversion 
of his power. Let French cannon protect his palace, and 
French bayonets prop his tottering throne : both he and 
they shall be " as the chaff of the mountains before the wind, 
and like a rolling thing before the whirlwind I" Antichrist 



288 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

cannot endure : the curse of Heaven is upon him, and "hell 
is moved from beneath to meet him at his coming." Even 
while I write come tidings from Italy of fourteen thousand 
people whelmed in the ruins of falling cities — an awful 
warning to the hoary blasphemer of the Vatican ! And when 
I saw him lately reeling to and fro in his lofty chair, sick 
from the unsteady motion of those who bore him upon their 
shoulders, as he passed at the head of his gorgeous proces- 
sion along the nave of the grand basilica, I seemed to recog- 
nize in him the symbolled mystagogue of the Apocalypse, 
" drunken with the blood of the saints," and staggering upon 
the brink of that "lake of fire" into which he is fated ere 
Ions: to fall ! 



BASILICA VATICANUS. 289 



CHAPTER XXII. 

BASILICA VATICANUS. 

VIEW FROM A DISTANCE VIEW FROM THE PIAZZA THE INTERIOR 

THE ROOF — THE DOME — THE BALL. 

" From whatever part of the surrounding country you look 
at Rome, the object that chiefly strikes the eye and the mind 
is St. Peter's : in visible as in moral impression, it forms in 
modern times the great representative feature of the Historic 
City." 

So writes our poetic countryman, Horace Binney Wallace ; 
and having for four months viewed this wonder of architec- 
ture from various distances' in every direction, and having 
wandered through its vast interior solitudes, and surveyed 
its infinite wealth of decoration, and walked its spacious 
roof, and climbed its gorgeous dome, I am prepared to adopt 
the sentiment, though I cannot go to the full extent with the 
enthusiastic author in his views of the sanctity and religious 
influence of the place. 

I have seen St. Peter's from the distant hill -slopes of 
Tivoli. My view was athwart the vast Campagna, covered, 
as it always is, with a soft purple haze, and bounded in the 
distance by the blue line of the Mediterranean. Nothing 
else was to be seen of the seven-hilled metropolis, not a tur- 
ret nor a tower, not a battlement nor a spire. But from the 
centre of the sombre plan the whole dome of St. Peter's 
13 



290 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

loomed up against the bright horizon, dark, weird, porten- 
tous, as if painted upon the shy. The Campagna looked like 
an ocean, and St. Peter's like a huge ship, sailing alone upon 
its dusky waters. 

I have seen it from the Alban Mount, and the Tomb of 
Pompey, and the Tusculan Villa of Cicero. A dreary waste 
lay before me, strewn with the wrecks of an empire. For 
nearly fifteen miles my eye ranged along a continuous street 
of sepulchres, among which stood conspicuous those of Mes- 
salla Corvinus and Cecilia Metella ; and nearly parallel with 
this, for half the distance, bestriding the desolation, were 
seen the gigantic arches of the Marcian, Julian, and Clauclian 
aqueducts, like vast thousand-footed monsters marching over 
the plain; and beyond them stood the majestic Coliseum,- 
and the ruin-strewn Palatine, with the domes and towers and 
palaces of modern Rome — all that rears itself aloft of the 
world's great mistress — all that remains of republican or im- 
perial grandeur — every thing melted by the golden richness 
of the languid atmosphere into an airy and mystical spectre 
of departed power. But above the pale masses of the city 
still rose that mighty vision — strange, solemn, mysterious — 
making all else seem utterly insignificant in the panorama. 
St. Peter's is the real Roman eagle, and the surrounding 
palaces and temples are but the nestlings that crouch timidly 
beneath its wings. Nay, St. Peter's is Rome itself, and all 
the rest are but suburban villas. 

I have seen it from the Via Aurelia fifteen miles distant, 
from the hills that surround the site of the Etruscan Veii, 
from the Tiber-washed mound where perched the lofty citadel 
of Fidene, from the nearer elevation which in the days of 
Romulus sustained the arx of Antemne, from a hundred 
other eminences in every direction over the undulating Cam- 
pagna, from Monte Mario and the Janiculum, from the 
gardens of the Quirmal and the palace of the Cassars, from 



BASILICA VATICANUS. 291 

the Tarpeian Rock and the belfries of the Campidoglio, from 
the arches of the Coliseum and the statued parapets of St. 
John Lateran — through the purple haze of the morning air, 
through the sapphire blue of the cloudless noontide, through 
the shifting tints of the gorgeous sunset, and through the 
soft gray mist of the evening twilight. Yet St. Peter's was 
ever the same — grand, awful, impressive — even at the 
greatest distance, filling the eye and elevating the soul ; and, 
as it was approached, swelling into a vastness, and assuming 
a magnificence, which only astonishment and wonder could 
embrace. There it stood, the proud representative of pon- 
tifical splendor, looking down in solemn mockery upon the 
crumbling memorials of imperial opulence ; though inferior, 
doubtless, in its extent, and the style of its architecture, to 
many of the structures of the ancient city, yet, in the pro- 
fusion and costliness of its decorations, and the sublimity of 
its soaring altitude, equalling if not surpassing the palace of 
Nero, the forum of Trajan, the theatre of Marcellus, the 
mausoleum of Hadrian, the thermae of Diocletian, the basi- 
lica of Constantine, or the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. 

Never shall I forget the impression produced upon me, 
when, as wc drew near the Porta Cavalleggieri, on our arrival 
from Civita ■ Vecchia, the great dome lifted itself over the 
wall, like a volcanic mountain suddenly thrown up into the 
evening sky. Never shall I forget the moment when, as we 
dashed along the circling forest of marble columns enclosing 
the broad piazza, with a thousand lamps gleaming through its 
thousand vistas, the architectural immensity first broke upon 
my view in all the majesty of its entireness. Still higher 
rose my admiration, when afterwards I entered that grand 
colonnade, and took a leisurely survey of the unrivalled basi- 
lica. The former vision was dim and indistinct — a gigantic 
frame without the picture; yet within the vast outline the 
imagination found ample scope, and the obscurity of the object 



292 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

perhaps impressed Hie the more with its grandeur. But now 
the veil was removed, and the mighty dome rose through 
the violet atmosphere into the fairest of Italian skies; and 
the several parts of the great basilica, in their fine pro- 
portions, and with their countless ornaments, stood forth in 
clear and perfect vision. What pencil shall paint its glories ! 
"■ Some things," says Mabillon, when he beheld this mighty 
structure, " are never more adequately praised than by silence 
and amazement." " I saw St. Peter's," says the poet Grey, 
" and was struck dumb with admiration." One can scarcely 
look upon it without feeling that St. Peter's is Rome, and 
Rome what Pliny described it — " the world in miniature." 
The wealth of an empire is within its walls, and the genius 
of ages has been exhausted in its decoration. The vastness 
of its dimensions, and the elevation of its matchless cupola, 
suggest at once the idea of all that is grand or magnificent 
in the deeds or productions of men. Nor less suggestive is 
it of solidity and strength ; it seems built for eternity. Yet 
the palace of the Caesars is not, and the walls of the Coliseum 
are crumbling, and the time shall be when no vestige shall 
remain of the Eternal City. 

As you enter the circular court in front of the edifice, the 
lofty colonnade that surrounds you, crowned with its numer- 
ous statues; the beautiful Egyptian obelisk, a hundred and 
thirty feet high, occupying the centre of the area ; the two 
perpetual water-jets, falling in feathery spray into their por- 
phyry basins ; the vast buildings of the Vatican, a little city, 
overlooking the entablature and balustrade of the galleria on 
the right — impressive as they would be in any other situation, 
are objects scarcely noticed in the presence of St. Peter's. 
Before you, raised on three successive flights of marble steps, 
extending four hundred feet in length, and towering to an 
elevation of a hundred and eighty, supported by huge Corin- 
thian pillars and pilasters, and adorned with an attic, a balus- 



BASILICA VATICANUS. 293 

trade, and thirteen colossal statues, you behold the front of 
the cathedral. Far behind and above rises the dome, like 
another Pantheon, suspended in the sky, its base surrounded 
and strengthened by a colonnade of coupled pillars, the 
colonnade surmounted by a graceful attic, the attic by the 
majestic swell of the convex roof, the apex of the roof by a 
circular cluster of columns enclosing the lantern, and this 
again by the pyramid which bears the ball and the cross into 
the infinite azure. 

Enter one of the five stupendous portals before you. You 
find yourself in a grand cathedral, paved with variegated 
marble, covered with a stupendous gilded vault, and adorned 
with numerous pillars and pilasters, mosaic figures, bas-reliefs, 
and statues — a hall into which you might pile five or six of 
your largest American churches, for it is four hundred feet in 
length, seventy in height, and fifty in breadth. Yet this is 
but the vestibule of St. Peter's. Lift aside the heavy matted 
curtain, and enter the body of the church. The most ex- 
tensive hall ever constructed by human hands opens in mag- 
nificent perspective before you. Advance up the nave, and 
admire the variegated marble beneath your feet, and the 
golden vault above your head ; the lofty Corinthian pilasters, 
with their bold and beautiful entablatures ; the intermediate 
niches, with their numerous colossal statues; and the mag- 
nificent arcades, with the graceful figures that recline upon 
their curves. Approach the foot of the altar, and from this 
central position contemplate the four superb vistas that open 
around you — the four stupendous piers that support the mas- 
sive dome — the many altars and sepulchral monuments, with 
their groups of exquisite sculpture — the wreaths and festoons, 
crosses and tiaras, angels and medallions, all of the rarest 
marbles and finest workmanship, representing the effigies of 
the different pontiffs, which everywhere adorn the walls ; 
and then raise your eyes to the wonderful cupola that spans 



294 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the whole like a firmament — so grand in its design, so pro- 
digious in its altitude, and rich beyond all parallel in its deco- 
ration — at once enchanting the eye, satisfying the taste, and 
filling the soul with a sense of calm sublimity. 

What a world of wonders is around you ! Whence all these 
precious marbles and metals — this profusion of gems and 
gold ? Who devised and executed these beautiful mosaics ? 
Who chiselled these glorious forms from the solid stone ? 
How soft the solar beams streaming in from the lofty 
windows ! How sweet the perfumed air through which they 
float ! There is no summer nor winter here : it is the change- 
less temperature of perpetual spring. Within these walls 
the flood of noontide splendor never dazzles the eye; and 
amid these ever-burning lamps midnight never produces 
utter darkness ; but the loveliest of twilights by day, and a 
" dim religious light" by night, pervade the spacious soli- 
tudes. The place seems holy through its very vastness and 
its beauty. Strength, grandeur, and solidity, suggestive of 
" the fixed infinite," float unsphered within these vaulted 
spaces. Yet who would think the ceiling of the nave twice 
the height of that of Westminster Abbey, and the vault of 
the dome almost treble that stupendous altitude ? Who 
would think those infant cherubs at the base of the pilasters 
six feet high, or the pen in the hand of St. Luke above them 
six feet long, or the figure of the Evangelist itself sixteen 
feet in stature, or the piers that support that unrivalled 
structure eighty-four feet in diameter, or the gorgeous bronze 
baldichino over the great altar, ninety feet above the pavement ? 
It is the perfection of the proportions that occasions the 
illusion ; and you must come hither again and again, and 
remain here long enough to study the several .parts of the 
edifice in detail, and allow the eye to become familiar with 
the various objects of its survey, before you will have any 
adequate idea of the greatness of the Roman cathedral. 



BASILICA VATICANUS. 295 

The oftener you visit it, the more you will be impressed with 
its grandeur; and a residence of years within its walls, it 
seems to me, would only enhance the wonder of its magni- 
tude and its magnificence. It is the sanctuary of space and 
silence. An oppressive sense of vastitude and majesty per- 
vades the place. No throng can crowd these halls; no sound 
of voice or organ can fill these arches. The Pope, who fills 
all Europe with his pompous retinue, fills not St. Peter's ; 
and the roar of his choired singers, with the sonorous chant 
of a host of priests, bishops, and cardinals, floats in soft 
echoes through its aisles and domes. 

Those vast pictures on the walls and piers — the Commu- 
nion of St. Jerome, by Domenichino ; the Burial of St. 
Petronilla, by Guercino ; the Transfiguration of the Re- 
deemer, by Rafiaello — are as great in merit as in magnitude 
— the masterpieces of the world — copied not in oil-tints upon 
perishable canvas, but wrought with infinite labor in ever- 
during mosaic. Look where you will, you see precious 
marbles and fretted gold, and the sense is actually oppressed 
with the immense richness and variety of decoration — 
the incalculable treasure lavished by popes and princes, with 
unparalleled prodigality, through successive centuries, upon 
this grand aesthetic embodiment of the Roman religion. And 
what an aspect of oriental magnificence has the great central 
altar, with its lofty and elaborately wrought canopy, sup- 
ported by its four huge twisted columns, the largest bronze 
structure in existence ; and the hundred brazen lamps which 
burn perpetually in front, lighting the way to the solemn 
crypt below ! There, probably, sleeps St. Paul — Peter also, 
according to the Church ; but there is no proof, and tradi- 
tion is rather dubious. There probably lies the dust of Paul — 
the greatest hero that Rome herself ever saw — the dust of that 
heart which enshrined the Crucified, and embraced the uni- 



296 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

verse — the dust of that mouth which discoursed so bravely 
at Athens, and spoke so sweetly to the elders of Ephesus — ■ 
the dust of those feet which traversed the world, and were 
never weary — of those eyes which wept so often for his 
enemies — of those hands which proudly wore the martyr's 
chain — there, probably, he lies, and thence shall come forth, 
with all them that sleep in Jesus, " to meet the Lord in the 
air I" 

But no one can say that he has seen St. Peter's till he has 
made the ascent of the dome. A day was set apart for this 
especial purpose, and a lovelier never shone on beautiful 
Italy. A broad spiral flight of steps, one hundred and forty- 
four in number, led us to the lofty roof. Here the vast 
dimensions and fine proportions of the edifice began to dawn 
like a new revelation upon my soul. Here I perceived that 
the vaulted roof of the nave and aisles was but the pedestal, 
whence the real elevation of the building soared on high. 
Here I ascertained that the statues of Christ and the Apostles 
arranged along the parapet, which from the court below 
appeared to be not more than five feet high, were in reality 
fifteen or twenty. The grand cupola was magnified in the 
same proportion; and the sixteen smaller ones, which seemed 
like satellites around it, were fit to have crowned as many 
fine churches. Two of them, indeed, are more than a hun- 
dred feet high, and worthy of cathedrals. I stood astonished 
at the number of domes and spires that rose around me — 
the galleries, the staircases, the shops of the workmen, the 
laborers passing to and fro — giving the whole the form and 
aspect of a town, rather than the roof of a church. But the 
grand dome itself is the acme of all architectural wonders; 
the vast platform on which it reposes, as on a solid rock, the 
lofty colonnade by which it is surrounded and' supported, the 
prodigious swell and circumference of the convex structure, 



BASILICA VATICANUS. 297 

and the lantern which stands upon its summit like a temple 
on a mountain, constituting an object which every eye must 
admire, but no pen can adequately describe. 

The dome is a double vault, a dome within a dome, and 
the stairs by which it is ascended are between the interior 
and exterior walls. After climbing several nights, we en- 
tered a door which opened upon the great circular gallery 
within. It was a dizzy height, and we shuddered to 
approach the balustrade and look down upon the baldichino, 
with the altar and the shrine below. The people moving 
about the pavement looked like Liliputians ; and the mosaic 
figures around us, which from beneath had seemed so small, 
assumed a gigantic magnitude. The diameter of the dome 
at this point is a hundred and forty feet, about the same as 
that of the Pantheon. Having satisfied ourselves with the 
view, we resumed the ascent ; and by successive flights of 
steps, at length reached the very apex of the dome. The 
prospect from the balcony here is equal to that which we 
enjoyed from the Campanile of the Capitol. The whole area 
of Rome lay spread out like a map beneath us, with the sur- 
rounding sweep of the Campagna, through which the Tiber, 
now unquestionably golden, winding like a great serpent, 
might be traced from Monte Soracte to the sea ; the whole 
bounded on the east by the purple-tinted semicircle of the 
Apennines, and on the west by the blue line of the Medi- 
terranean. Every thing in the Eternal City seemed to be 
visible, but here the seven hills had sunk to a level with the 
intervening valleys, and churches and palaces had lost their 
grandeur and elevation, while St. Peter's and the adjoining 
Vatican, by themselves, assumed the magnitude of a town. 
Nothing could look funnier than the manikins in the broad 
piazza below, the toy-carriages and horses passing through 
the streets, and the company of tiny soldiers performing 
their evolutions within the circling colonnade. 
13* 



298 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

At the top of the lantern we found a spacious room, with 
seats around the wall, where several persons were awaiting 
their opportunity to mount still higher. There was a party 
already in the ball, and others could not ascend till they 
came down. The place was uncomfortably warm, but here, 
as elsewhere, we must " bide our time." The ladder lead- 
ing up into the ball is vertical, and the aperture at the top 
is only large enough to admit a man of ordinary dimensions. 
A fat monk, who essayed the ascent in vain, afforded our 
company much amusement; and a fashionable lady, who 
immediately afterward mounted the ladder with an air of 
triumph, found it equally impracticable. We experienced 
no difficulty, however; and Mrs. Cross performed the feat 
with comparative ease. The ball, which from the piazza 
below seems not much larger than the Pope's head, is spa- 
cious enough to contain sixteen persons. On the outside is 
a small iron ladder, conducting to the cross above ; but the 
ascent is seldom or never attempted, except by the man who 
lights the cross on the night of the annual illumination, nor 
even by him till he has received the sacrament of extreme 
unction ; though once upon a time, as Eustace records in 
his Classical Tour, some midshipmen of the frigate Medusa, 
who had served an apprenticeship at climbing, did achieve 
this exploit without any such efficacious preparative ; and 
their example was subsequently imitated by a party of spirited 
young Americans — 

"Heroes prodigal of breath, 
Athirst for glory, and despising death." 



ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 299 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 

INFLUENCE OF BORROMINI UPON THE STYLE OF SACRED ARCHITEC- 
TURE CHURCH OF ST. CLEMENT SAN PIETRO IN VINCOLI SAN 

MARTINO E SAN SYLVESTRO SANTA CECILIA IN TRASTETERA SAN 

PIETRO IN MONTORIO SANTA MARIA IN TRASTEVERA SAN LOREN- 
ZO — IL GESU ARA C(ELI SANTA MARIA MAGGIORA SAN GIOVANNI 

IN LATERANO SAN PAOLO FUORI LA MURA SANT' ONOFRIO SANTA 

MARIA AD MARTYRES SAN STEPHANO ROTONDO. 

Pagan Rome had four hundred temples : Papal Rome has 
three hundred and thirty churches, many of them as old as 
the time of Constantine. These ancient edifices have been 
more or less altered in the successive restorations and repairs 
to which they have been subjected, yet much of the old ma- 
terial remains, and the original plans of the buildings are 
generally preserved. They are interesting, therefore, as 
specimens of the early Christian architecture, and frequently 
they contain rare treasures of art. With the exception of 
the transept, rendering them cruciform, they are built after 
the model of the ancient Basilica; with a lofty central 
nave, and two lateral aisles, separated from it by colonnades. 

The prevailing style of the modern ecclesiastical architec- 
ture of Rome I cannot say that I admire. The fantastical 
innovations of Borromini appear to me opposed to all true 
taste and just proportion. This is the more remarkable in 



300 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Rome, where so many admirable specimens of antiquity 
remain, as guides and models for the architect. It is 
strange that, with the portico of the Pantheon before him, 
he should have indulged in such whimsical absurdities — 
groups of pillars crowded into recesses, cornices broken and 
sharpened into angles, and pediments twisted into curves 
and flourishes — filling Rome with such extravagances and 
deformities as now everywhere meet the eye of the beholder. 
But Borromini was a bold genius, who avoided imitation, 
and aimed at originality, seeking even to excel Michael 
Angelo. The former object he certainly achieved ; the lat- 
ter also, in respect to every thing grotesque and ridiculous 
in his art. 

Yet there is much in the churches of Rome to be admired. 
He who delights in immense halls and endless colonnades j 
pillars of solid granite, and altars and tombs of precious 
marbles ; pavements that glow with all the tints of the rain- 
bow, and roofs ablaze with glittering bronze and gold ; can- 
vas that seems to live and breathe, and statues which appear 
ready to step down from their pedestals and grasp the hand 
of the visitor ; may find in the religious structures of this 
grand old city ample entertainment for weeks and months 
together. I confine myself to a few of the more ancient, 
whether within or without the walls. 

The oldest church in Rome is that of San Clemente; 
said to occupy the site of that bishop's house, and supposed 
to have been originally one of its apartments. Nothing is 
absurd in Rome but Protestant incredulity. That this edi- 
fice is very ancient is unquestionable, for it is mentioned as 
an old one by Jerome, and other writers of the fourth cen- 
tury ; but that it retains much of its primitive appearance 
is very doubiful, so often has it been reedified and altered. 
It is not, strictly speaking, a basilica, though it appears to 
have been something after that form; which, indeed, has 



ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 301 

been generally retained or imitated in the church architec- 
ture of Italy. 

The Church of San Pietro in Vincoli — St. Peter in 
Chains — was built about the year A. D. 420. It is a noble 
hall, supported by forty pillars of marble, and adorned with 
some beautifully-sculptured tombs and several fine pictures. 
Here is Michael Angelo's Moses, one of the most remarka- 
ble statues in the world. This was the first great work of 
art I visited in Rome ; and though I afterward went to see 
it again and again, I was never weary of gazing upon its 
majestic proportions. But the most precious treasure in 
this church, of course, is the holy relic from which it 
receives its name — the chain with which Saint Peter was 
bound, still sacredly preserved in a box beneath the altar. 

Near this, built from the ruins of the Baths of Titus, and 
dating from the days of Constantine, is the Church of San 
Martino e San Sylvestro. It is supported by Corinthian 
columns of the finest marble, bearing a very beautiful entab- 
lature ; and its walls are adorned by the pencils of the two 
Poussins. Beneath the altar, which is of the neatest pat- 
tern and the finest proportions, is the descent into the 
ancient church — a large vaulted hall, once paved with 
mosaic, and well furnished with various artistic decorations 
— now nearly subterranean, and tinged with unwholesome 
vapors, from which the visitor is soon glad to escape. 

Of equal magnificence, though of inferior antiquity, is 
the church of Santa Cecilia in Trastevera. It is thought 
to occupy the ground whereon stood the house of the virgin 
martyr; and the bath is shown in a chapel, where, they say, 
she was beheaded. On the tomb is a reclining statue, in a 
very natural position, and apparently covered with a delicate 
veil ; which, according to the inscription, exactly represents 
the attitude and drapery of the body, as it was found there 
more than a thousand years ago. It is exceedingly graceful, 



302 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and wrought with such exquisite art, that the saint seems to 
sleep in her snowy robe, awaiting the call of the morning. 
There are few works of art more beautiful than Raphael's 
painting of this maiden-martyr, as she stands, harp in hand, 
with eyes upturned to heaven — ■ 

" The mind, the music, breathing from her face." 

In a very conspicuous position on the side of the Janicu- 
lum, and commanding a view of the whole city, stands the 
church of San Pietro in Montorio. It is a very ancient 
building, adorned with fine sculpture and painting. In con- 
nection with it is a convent ; and in the court of its cloister 
stands a little Doric chapel, built by Bramante. It is circu- 
lar in form, supported by pillars, and crowned with a dome, 
resembling somewhat the temples of Vesta. This little' 
gem of an edifice is erected on the very spot — so says tradi- 
tion, so say the faithful — where St. Peter was crucified ; and 
who can doubt that the aperture which the custode showed 
us in the floor is the identical place where the cross was 
planted ? 

Santa Maria in Trastevera, formerly the Basilica Calixta, 
is said to have been built near the beginning of the third 
century, and rebuilt near the middle of the fourth. Its 
antiquity, however, does not constitute its only interest. 
Its bold portico and lofty nave are supported by ancient 
pillars of red and black granite, all of different orders and 
sizes; its entablature is composed of shattered remains of 
various antique cornices ; and the whole fabric, indeed, 
seems to be a most extraordinary assemblage of heterogeneous 
fragments. There is in it, however, a certain majesty, 
which measurably redeems its deformities ; and its chapels 
are splendidly adorned by the pencil of Domenichino. 

In the ancient Campus Veranus, on the road to Tivoli, 
about a mile beyond the gate, stands the Basilica of San 



ROMAN ECCLESIOLOG Y. 303 

Lorenzo, erected by Constantine the Great. Twenty-four 
granite pillars separate its aisles from its nave. It has two 
ambones, richly carved, and inlaid with precious marbles. 
Its chancel is curiously paved with mosaic, and adorned with 
twenty-four superb Corinthian columns, in two ranges, one 
above the other; the lower range descending, through a 
large open space, far below the present pavement, to the 
level of the original floor. Beneath the altar is the tomb, 
inlaid and encrusted with the most costly marbles, where the 
saint's remains are said to repose, with those also of the 
martyr Stephen. When the latter were brought hither from 
their original resting-place, and were about being lowered 
into the tomb, the former politely removed to one side to 
make room for them. No wonder the saints are honored by 
the living, who receive such homage from the dead ! 

11 Gesu is interesting, less for its antiquity than for its 
popularity. Antiquity, indeed, it can scarcely claim, as it 
was built in the sixteenth century. This church and its 
convent are the head-quarters of the Jesuits. It is very 
large and magnificent, but somewhat tawdry in its decora- 
tions. The sumptuous chapel of St. Ignatius Loyola con- 
tains the richest altar in the world. Over it hangs a solid 
globe of lapis-lazuli, which is deemed the largest mass of 
that precious substance in the possession of man. The gilt 
bronze tomb of the saint beneath it contrasts singularly with 
his life of suffering and self-denial. He reposes in a shroud 
adorned with precious stones, and his tall statue of massy 
silver is profusely ornamented with gems. By the side of 
the high altar is the tomb of Cardinal Bellarmino — a cele- 
brated controversialist of the Roman Catholic Church — 
some of whose tenets, being a little too liberal to suit the 
taste of the Vatican, have hitherto prevented his canoniza- 
tion. Thousands of people flock hither for the music and 
the preaching every Sabbath morning. The music is the 



304 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

finest in Rome ; and the preaching, for elocution and effect, 
surpasses any theatrical performance in Italy. The estab- 
lishment is said to be immensely wealthy, and I can well 
believe it ; for the trade in indulgences carried on here is a 
very lucrative business, and the walls of the church are 
covered with certificates of the release of souls from purga- 
tory, every one of which brought a good sum into the coffers 
of the brotherhood. 

The Ara Cadi, which dates from the fifth or sixth century, 
occupies the site of the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, and 
is built partly from its ruins. Its twenty-two columns of 
Egyptian granite, however, could not have belonged to that 
renowned fabric, whose pillars, according to Plutarch, were 
all of Pentelic marble. They differ in style and workman- 
ship, and were probably transferred hither from different 
structures. One of them bears an antique inscription, indi- 
cating that it came from the bedchamber of the Caesars 
upon the Palatine. The floor and the two ambones are orna- 
mented with mosaics of curious patterns. The hundred and 
twenty-four marble steps by which it is approached once 
formed part of the Temple of Quirinus. The great attrac- 
tion here is II Santissimo Bambino — an image of the infant 
Saviour, covered with gems of sufficient value to purchase 
an empire. It was made by a Franciscan pilgrim from a tree 
which grew in the garden of Olivet, and colored and var- 
nished by Saint Luke, while the artist slept. Of course, it 
has marvellous virtue, and has healed myriads of sick. 
Frequently it is carried to the chambers of the dying ; and 
its fees for professional visits amount to as much as the 
salaries of all the physicians of Rome. Once, when it went 
to see a patient, it was detained in his chamber, and another 
Bambino was sent back in its stead; but during the next 
night, indignant at such detention, it arose and walked home 
to its temple. Is it wonderful that this wooden doll should 



ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 305 

be worshipped by the prostrate thousands of Rome, when it 
is exhibited for their veneration in the street? It was in 
the Ara Cceli that Gibbon, as he sat musing amid the ruins 
of the Capitol, while the barefooted monks chanted ves- 
pers, first conceived the idea of writing the "Decline and 
Fall of the Roman Empire." 

One of the noblest of these churches is the Santa Maria 
Maggiore. It was built about the middle of the fourth 
century, and perhaps was the first ever named after the 
blessed virgin. It stands isolated on the Esquiline, where 
two great streets terminate in two broad squares; and with 
its two domes, two fronts, and lofty campanile, presents a 
very imposing aspect. I cannot say that I admire the archi- 
tecture of its exterior; but its spacious and richly decorated 
interior is exceedingly majestic and beautiful. It is the best 
specimen of the ancient basilica, more than four hundred 
feet long, and of proportionate width. The aisles are sepa- 
rated from the nave by two Ionic colonnades, numbering more 
than forty pillars, thirty-two of which are of white marble. 
The altar is a large slab of marble, covering a porphyry sarco- 
phagus, in which formerly slumbered the remains of Bishop 
Liberius, the founder of this gorgeous fabric ; and is over- 
shadowed by a magnificent baldichino of bronze, supported 
by four lofty Corinthian pillars. Its variegated floor, and 
richly gilded ceiling, exceed all that I had ever imagined of 
church ornamentation. Its two great side-chapels, dedicated 
to Sixtus Quintus and the Borghese family, are adorned with 
jasper and lapis-lazuli, and blaze with a profusion of gems 
and precious metals. But notwithstanding this prodigality 
of ornament, the general effect is an impression of calm 
grandeur, which pleases without astonishing; and often as 1 
was there, I always enjoyed, in the contemplation of its 
architecture, a feeling of tranquil delight. 

Like this basilica, that of San Giovanni in Laterano has 



306 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

two fronts, is very large and imposing, and occupies a con- 
spicuous position. But the contortions of its interior archi- 
tecture — its broken friezes and fantastic pediments — its 
spirals, semicircles, and triangles without number — produce 
a very different impression from that of the Santa Maria 
Maggiore. Its decorations are extremely rich, and scattered 
with the utmost profusion, but unfortunately with little 
taste ; and the G-othic ornament that surmounts the altar, it 
appears to me, is not in harmony with the rest of the edifice. 
For these deformities, I believe, Borromini is responsible. 
The church was originally supported by more than three 
hundred antique pillars ; but this bold innovator, in repairing 
it, walled up many of them in the buttresses, which he dis- 
figured with groups of tasteless pilasters. The canopy over, 
the altar in the chapel of the Santissimo Sacramento is sus- 
tained by four fluted columns of bronze, extremely beautiful, 
which are said to have been brought from the Temple 
of Jerusalem, but are believed by some to have belonged to 
the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. The Corsini Chapel 
contains the tomb of Clement XII., whose remains repose in 
a large porphyry sarcophagus, brought from the portico of the 
Pantheon, and once occupied by the ashes of Agrippa. In 
the baptistry is a large basin, lined with marble, from which 
tradition affirms Constantine to have been baptized, and 
from which are now baptized all the Jewish converts to the 
papal faith in Rome. In a neighboring building is the 
Scala, Santa, or Holy Staircase, brought hither from Jeru- 
salem ; the identical steps — we must not doubt it — on which 
our blessed Lord ascended to the judgment hall of Pilate. 
Pilgrims are constantly climbing them on their knees, as 
Ceesar did the steps to the Temple of Quirinus. A printed 
advertisement at the bottom promises plenary and perpetual 
indulgence to those who perform this act of piety, and 
declares this indulgence to be available also on behalf of 



ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 807 

their friends in purgatory. At the top, in a dark niche, 
behind an iron railing, with a light always burning before it, 
is a portrait of our Lord, painted by St. Luke, under the 
direction of an angel ; but the artist and his master, it is 
thought, must have been rather indifferent painters. 

The magnificent cathedral of San Paolo fuori la Mura, 
on the way to Ostia, is one of the grandest Christian temples 
in the world ; and impressed me more than any other build- 
ing in Rome or its environs, except St. Peter's itself. In 
1823 it was burned down, and has since been rebuilt, but is 
not yet finished. The original edifice was begun by Con- 
stantine, and completed by Theodosius and Honorius. Its 
roof was of wood, but the beams were lined with gold. Its 
columns, amounting to a hundred and thirty-eight, were 
deemed the finest collection in the world. It was repaired 
successively by Leo III. and Sixtus Quintus. The latter 
built a portico, or covered gallery, leading to it, from the 
gate of the city, more than a mile in length, supported by 
marble pillars, and roofed with gilded copper. This magni- 
ficent structure, however, was destroyed long ago, and has 
left no trace of its existence. We rode out to the basilica, 
over an unpaved road, beneath a broiling sun, and were well- 
nigh suffocated with dust. The glory of the building is not 
in its external architecture ; though the lofty portico, on the 
northern side, with its twelve marble columns, is a beautiful 
erection ; and its campanile, which is not yet completed, is 
likely to be a very graceful structure. It has a nave and 
four aisles, divided by four rows of granite columns, amount- 
ing in all to eighty-two, every one a single piece, and 
crowned with a Corinthian capital of white marble. The 
frieze above is ornamented with mosaic portraits of the 
popes and illustrious fathers of the Church, but the series is 
not yet complete. Over the high altar is a magnificent 
canopy, supported by four columns of white alabaster from 



308 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Egypt ; and beneath it lie parts, it ia said, of the bodies of 
Saint Peter and Saint Paul. The sanctuary, as it is called, 
is paved with fine marble, and adorned with noble columns 
and rich mosaics. The length of the building is four hun- 
dred feet, and its width at the transept two hundred and 
fifty. The adjoining cloister of the Benedictines, around an 
open square, is as fantastic in its architecture as can well be 
imagined; and its columns, coupled, twisted, fluted, invert- 
ed, covered with mosaics, and of all possible forms, Borro- 
mini himself could not have beaten. 

The classical reader would deem it unpardonable in me not 
to mention in this sketch the mausoleum of the modern 
Virgil. Torquato Tasso sleeps in the Church of Sani 1 Ono- 
frio, just under the brow of the Janiculum — midway 
between his birthplace at Sorrento and his dungeon at Fer- 
rara. On the left, as you enter the church, is a marble slab, 
with a brief and simple inscription, marking the place where 
the remains of the poet rested for a long time. They were 
afterward removed to the chapel close by, and a monument 
of white marble erected over them, which is one of the most 
beautiful things in Rome. In the centre is a full-length 
figure of the poet, with an upturned face of almost angelic 
loveliness, holding a manuscript in one hand, and a gilded 
pen in the other. Two heavenly beings are hovering over 
him, in the act of placing a wreath upon his head. Beneath 
is the funeral procession in basso-relievo ; the figures being 
all actual likenesses of the chief personages who officiated 
on the occasion, or followed in the train. This exquisite 
memorial is but recently finished; and Pio Nono himself 
headed the subscription to the work with a liberal sum. 
From the church, we passed through the cloisters, into the 
garden ; and sat for an hour under Tasso's Oak ; and mused 
on the unhappy fate of the poet ; and looked down upon the 
yellow Tiber, rolling in a thousand whirlpools at our feet; 



ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. , 309 

and gazed upon the Campus Martius, crowded with the 
structures of the modern city; and the monumental ruins 
which cover the seven hills beyond, mocking the ancient boast 
of Rome's eternity. And then we returned to the convent, 
and entered the room where the poet died, and saw his chair, 
his writing-desk, the pens which he used, some of his manu- 
scripts, several articles of his apparel, a cast in wax taken 
from the dead man's face, and the bay with which the fratti 
decorated his bier and his sepulchre when they removed his 
remains — sacredly preserved, but all withered and crisped — 
a sad memorial of genius, and a melancholy emblem of 
fame ! These are the words of Tasso, in a letter to a friend, 
a few days before his dissolution : " I feel that the end of 
my life is near; being able to find no remedy for this weari- 
some indisposition, which is superadded to my customary 
infirmities, and by which, as by a rapid torrent, I see myself 
swept away, without a hand to save. It is no longer time to 
speak of my unyielding destiny, not to say the ingratitude 
of the world, which has longed even for the victory of driv- 
ing me a beggar to my grave; while I thought that the 
glory which, in spite of those who will it not, this age shall 
receive from my writings, was not to leave me thus without 
reward. I have come to this monastery of St. Onofrio, not 
only because the air is commended by physicians as more 
salubrious than in any other part of Rome, but that I may, 
as it were, commence, in this high place, and in the conver- 
sation of these devout fathers, my conversation in heaven. 
Pray Glod for me ; and be assured that as I have loved and 
honored you in this present life, so in that other and more 
real life will I do for you all that belongs to charity unfeigned 
and true. And to the Divine mercy I commend both you and 
myself." 

Nor must I omit the grand Rotondo ; consecrated by 
Agrippa to Jupiter Ultor and all the gods ; and subsequently, 



810 . A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

by Boniface the Fourth, to the Virgin Mary and all the mar- 
tyrs. The form of the Pantheon is that of a vast circular 
hall, crowned with a lofty dome : rather, it is a gi-eat dome 
set upon the ground. It is paved and lined with precious 
marbles; and its walls are adorned with sixteen columns, 
and as many pilasters, of giallo antico and pavanazzetto. 
Between the pillars are eight niches, and between these 
niches eight altars, each adorned with two smaller pillars of 
the same kind. The niches were originally occupied by 
statues of the superior divinities, and the intermediate altars 
were consecrated to the inferior powers. Those statues, 
according to the rank of the gods they represented, were 
of gold, silver, bronze, or marble. The proportions of this 
temple are most admirable, its diameter and its altitude being 
equal — about a hundred and fifty feet — and its dome an exact 
hemisphere. It has no windows, but there is a circular 
opening in the apex of the dome, twenty-eight feet in 
diameter, through which the light and the rain alike have 
free access to the interior. The doors are of massive bronze, 
probably the identical doors that were placed there by 
Agrippa. In front is a fine portico, a hundred and ten feet 
long, and forty-four feet deep; consisting of a double row 
of Corinthian columns, sixteen in number. Each shaft is a 
single piece of oriental granite, forty-four feet in height; 
and all the bases and capitals are of white marble. It looks 
toward the grand Mausoleum of Augustus on the Campus 
Martius, and before it of old extended a long area paved 
with travertine. This is the most perfect specimen of 
Roman architecture that time and the popes have spared. 
" They have removed," says Dupaty, " all that made it rich, 
but left all that made it great." The fine marble which 
encrusted the exterior long since disappeared, leaving 
nothing but the naked brick; the silver which lined the 
dome was stripped off and carried away by the barbarians ; 



ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 311 

and the gilt bronze which covered the roof was taken to 
make the cannon for the castle of St. Angelo, and the huge 
twisted columns which sustain the baldichino over the high 
altar of St. Peter's. We may form some proximate idea of 
the original magnificence of the building, when we learn 
that more than four hundred and fifty thousand pounds 
weight of metal were removed at one time. The Pantheon 
has served as a model for St. Sophia's at Constantinople, and 
the majestic cupola of the Basilica Vaticanus. The portico 
seems to have been built by Agrippa, about thirty years 
before Christ : the llotondo itself may be a century or two 
older. The eyes of St. Paul looked upon it; and perhaps 
here, as on Mars Hill, he rebuked the superstition of the 
people. It is at least by far the most ancient building in 
Rome, remaining in so good a state of preservation. Its 
escape from the common fate of other antique edifices is 
attributable mainly to its conversion into a church in the 
beginning of the seventh century. Two hundred years later 
it was repaired, and dedicated to the Virgin, under the name 
of Santa Maria ad Martyres, when twenty-eight wagon- 
loads of holy bones were brought into it from the cemeteries 
and catacombs, which was the origin of the Feast of All 
Saints. And here reposes Haffaello ! 

I close these ecclesiological sketches, which might be 
indefinitely extended, with a brief notice of the Church of 
San Stpffano Rotondo, on the Ca3lian Hill. This is one of 
the oldest religious edifices in Rome, and by many is sup- 
posed to have been originally a pagan temple, though there 
is probably no sufficient ground for this opinion, nor is it 
sustained by the character of the architecture. The build- 
ing is named from its circular shape, and contains two rows 
of concentric columns, thirty-six in the outer, and twenty in 
the inner circle. But the chief attraction of the place is 
the scries of frescoes upon the walls, all round the building, 



312 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

exhibiting the sufferings of the martyrs ; albeit, less remark- 
able for any artistic merit they possess, than for the revolt- 
ing horrors they display. You see the witnesses of Jesus 
burned, impaled, beheaded, crucified, flayed alive, torn to 
pieces, transpierced with arrows, broiled on gridirons, boiled 
in caldrons of oil, fed with ladles of melted metal, and 
enduring almost every imaginable kind of cruelty and indig- 
nity. Doubtless many of the stories thus represented are 
untrue, and others are exaggerated; it is not very likely, for 
instance, that St. Denis walked with his head in his hands, 
after it was struck from his shoulders ; but enough that is 
well authenticated remains, to show the malice of Satan, 
and the triumphant power of the Christian faith; and it may 
not be unprofitable to contemplate these pictorial representa- 
tions of both. " Though pleasure is not a sin," says the late 
Doctor Arnold, " yet surely the contemplation of suffering 
for Christ's sake is a thing most needful for us in our days, 
from whom in our daily life suffering seems so far removed; 
and as Cod's grace enabled rich and delicate persons, women, 
and even children, to endure all the extremities of pain and 
reproach in times past, so there is the same grace now; and 
if we do not close ourselves against it, it might in us be 
equally glorified in a time of trial." He goes on to state his 
conviction, " from the teaching both of men's wisdom and 
of Cod's/' that such times of trial are approaching. "And 
therefore," he adds, "pictures of martyrdom are, I think, 
very wholesome ; not to be sneered at, nor yet to be looked 
upon as a mere excitement ; but as a sober reminder to us 
of what Satan can do to hurt, and what Christ's grace can 
enable the weakest of his people to bear. Neither should 
we forget those who by their sufferings were more than con- 
querors, not for themselves only, but for us, in securing to 
us the safe and triumphant existence of Christ's blessed 
faith; in securing to us the possibility — nay, the actual 



ROMAN ECCLESIOLOGY. 313 

enjoyment, had it not been for the antichrist of the priest- 
hood — of Christ's holy and glorious ecclesia — the congrega- 
tion and commonwealth of Christ's people." How vastly 
superior are these truly Christian sentiments to the common 
inculcations of the Roman ecclesiastics concerning such works 
of art, and the idolatrous veneration paid them by the 
E,oman people ! 



14 



314 A TEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

PALACES AND VILLAS. 

ROMAN PALACES PALAZZO DORIA PALAZZO RUSPOLI PALAZZO COR- 

SINI PALAZZO BARBARINI PALAZZO BORGHESE PALAZZO FARNESE 

PALAZZO COLONNA PALAZZO SPADA PALAZZO PONTIFICIO PA- 
LAZZO VATICANO SUBURBAN TILLAS VILLA FARNESE TILLA 

NEGRONI VILLA PAMFILIDORIA VILLA MADAMA VILLA BORGHESE' 

SIMILARITY OF THESE VILLAS. 

Besides the palaces of the pope and the senator, there 
are twenty-four private palaces in Rome, all of vast dimen- 
sions and imposing architecture. To many of them, in the 
grandeur of their external appearance, our finest hotels and 
state-capitols bear no comparison ; but within, all seems sacri- 
ficed to display, and little or nothing is reserved for domestic 
convenience or personal comfort. The stranger, as he walks 
down the Corso and across some of the Piazzas, cannot help 
admiring these grand and gorgeous structures ; but let him 
enter the arched gateway, ascend the broad marble staircase, 
and follow his guide through the long suite of apartments, 
and he will be still more astonished at the unfurnished and 
uncomfortable condition of the interior. The chief part of 
the building is occupied with statues and paintings ; while 
the noble proprietor, with his wife and children, and a cou- 
ple of half-starved domestics, are living in the most secluded 
and economical manner in some remote corner of the build- 
ing, admitting visitors at two pauls a head to their saloons 



PALACES AND VILLAS. 815 

and galleries of art, and tlrus reaping a scanty revenue from 
the display of their ill-sustained magnificence. They give 
no social entertainments, receive no company, and are sel- 
dom seen, except when they ride out in the afternoon, with 
liveried driver and footman, on the Pincio, or through the 
grounds of the Villa Borghese. Often, no doubt, they ac- 
tually suffer for the necessaries of life, in order to keep up 
the prestige of their ancient grandeur. The principal 
apartments of many of these spacious edifices are rented to 
sojourning foresticri ; and some of them are even used as 
hotels, cafes, bazaars, studios, mechanic shops, while the 
family occupy some single chamber in one of the upper 
stories. The case, of course, is different with the cardinals, 
and such of the nobility as have sufficient income to main- 
tain them in better state. 

The Palazzo Porta in the Corso presents three vast 
fronts, with a spacious court within, surrounded by a beauti- 
ful portico. The staircase, supported by eight pillars of 
Oriental granite, conducts to a magnificent gallery, that 
occupies the four sides of the court, and is crowded with the 
finest works of art. 

The Palazzo Puspoli is remarkable for its staircase, 
which is deemed one of the noblest in Rome. It consists 
of four flights of steps, each thirty in number ; and every 
step is one solid piece of marble, nearly ten feet long and 
two feet broad. It is adorned with autique statues, and 
leads to two noble galleries, the walls of which are covered 
with pictures. The lower story is now the Caffe JSfuovo. 

The Palazzo Corsini is a building of vast magnitude, and 
one of the handsomest in Rome. It has a double staircase 
of most imposing architecture, conducting to an extensive 
gallery of painting and sculpture, and a library of four 
thousand volumes. It is situated in the Lungara of the 
Trastevera, and has a pretty villa connected with it, whose 



316 A YEAR IN EUROPE, 

classic grounds, reaching to the very crest of the Janiculurn, 
command a pleasant prospect of the city. 

The Palazzo Bqrbarini is not externally attractive ; but 
it contains some of the finest works of art, among which 
are Raffael's Fornarina, and Gruido's immortal portrait of 
Beatrice Cenci, " the picture that enchants the world." 
The latter is certainly one of the loveliest things ever exe- 
cuted by human hand. No artist may sit before it, even 
with a cedar pencil ; yet copies of it are seen in all the shops 
and studios of Rome, and circulated throughout the world. 
It is said that the finest ever taken is by our countryman, 
Sully, and this is entirely from memory. 

The Palazzo Borghese is a superb edifice, belonging to an 
illustrious family, long celebrated for their taste and their' 
magnificence. It is remarkable for its vast dimensions; for 
the noble portico, sustained by ninety-six granite columns, 
which surrounds its court ; and still more for a certain well- 
proportioned magnificence, pervading every part, and giving 
the whole mansion, from basement to attic, an aspect of 
neatness, order, and opulence. The gallery, containing 
eight hundred and fifty-six paintings, is arranged in twelve 
large rooms, each of which has a separate catalogue in 
French and Italian for the use of visitors. 

The Palazzo Farnese occupies one side of a handsome 
square, adorned with two fountains. It was planned by 
Michael Angelo, and its apartments were painted by Dorne- 
nichino and Annibale Caracci. The latter toiled eight 
years on these frescoes, and was rewarded with the princely 
sum of five hundred crowns, equal to six hundred dollars ! 
The palace is of immense size and great elevation; but it 
was all built from the plundered fragments of the Flavian 
Amphitheatre. The majestic vestibule is supported by 
twelve massive pillars of Egyptian granite. Within, three 
ranges of arcades rise one above another around a spacious 



PALACES AND VILLAS. 817 

court, and several entrances open into suites of magnificent 
apartments, with ceilings beautifully carved. In the portico 
stands the sarcophagus of white marble taken from the 
tomb of Cecilia Metella. The roof and cornice were some- 
what damaged in 1849 by the French batteries on the Jani- 
culum ; and we saw several marks left by those formidable 
missiles. 

The Palazzo Colonna has an indifferent exterior ; but its 
great extent, its ample court, and its teeming galleries, can- 
not fail to excite the admiration of the visitor. Its stair- 
case, lined with statues; its apartments, decorated with pic- 
tures; its library, filled with a choice collection of old books 
and manuscripts ; its great hall, forty feet in breadth, and 
more than two hundred and twenty in length, supported by 
Corinthian columns of giallo antico, and adorned on the 
sides and vaulted ceiling with painting and gilding inter- 
mingled; and its terraced gardens, extending along the 
western slope of the Quirinal, with their flowery walks, and 
tropical fruits, and living walls of box, and deep arcades of 
ilex, and colossal fragments of the Temple of the Sun, pre- 
sent a scene of splendor and beauty seldom equalled even in 
Italy. The place derives an additional interest from its his- 
tory, as the residence of Julius the Second, of Cardinal 
Borromeo, and the noble Colonna. The last named was a 
hero worthy of antiquity. When overtaken by his pur- 
suers, and asked who he was, he replied, " I am Stephen 
Colonna, a citizen of Rome ;" and when, in the last 
extremity of battle, one cried out to him, " Where is now 
your fortress, Colonna V he laid his hand upon his heart, 
and proudly answered, " Here \" 

The Palazzo Sjoada, though less inviting externally than 
many of those already described, will be one of the first to 
attract the attention of the classical tourist, because it con- 
tains the statue of Pompey, at the base of which "great 



018 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Caesar fell." This statue was originally placed by Porupey 
himself in the senate-house which he had erected; and 
when that edifice was shut up, it was raised by order of 
Augustus upon the summit of a marble arch opposite the 
entrance of Pompey's Theatre. During the convulsions of 
the Gothic wars it was thrown down, and for ages lay buried 
in ruins. About the beginning of the seventeenth century 
it was discovered in a partition wall between two houses; 
the proprietors of which, after some altercation, valuing it 
only for the marble, agreed to saw it asunder, and divide it 
between them. Fortunately, the Cardinal di Spada heard 
of it, and by a timely purchase rescued from destruction one 
of the most interesting relics of Roman antiquity. It is 
eleven feet high, and of Parian marble. There is a broad 
crimson stain upon one of the legs, a little above the ankle, 
said to be the blood of Csesar, which the sapient authoress of 
"Reflected Fragments" declares must not be questioned; 
and truth to say, though one might think two thousand 
years sufficient for the effacement of any such mark, it 
would require a good degree of art to produce a better imi- 
tation. During the French occupation of the city sixty 
years ago, it was carried to the Coliseum, and placed upon 
the stage of a temporary theatre erected for the entertain- 
ment of the soldiery, when its right arm was sawed off to 
aid the facility of transportation. There is also here a sit- 
ting statue of Aristotle, and a series of remarkable bas- 
reliefs from the Ohiesa clella Santf Agnesia. In 1849 seve- 
ral shot from the French batteries struck the walls of the 
palace, some of which broke through the massive structure, 
but, fortunately, injured none of these valuable antiques. 

The Palazzo Pontificio on the Quirinal, the ordinary sum- 
mer residence of the pope, ought of course to be more 
splendid than any of those I have mentioned, and Murray 
pronounces it " the most habitable and princely palace in 



PALACES AND VILLAS. 319 

Rome." Its exterior presents two long fronts, of rather 
simple and unostentatious architecture. The court within 
is about three hundred and fifty feet by four hundred, sur- 
rounded by a lofty portico, with a broad staircase conducting 
to the papal apartments. We first entered a grand hall, two 
hundred feet long, and totally without furniture, but having 
a very gorgeous ceiling. Beyond this we came to the private 
apartments of the pope — his audience-chamber, dining-saloon, 
bedroom, and study, constructed and furnished on a grand 
scale, exceedingly neat, perhaps I should say splendid, but 
not gaudy. On the identical brass bedstead which we saw 
in the dormitory, expired Pius the Seventh. Next we came 
to an elegant suite of apartments which that pontiff fitted up 
for the Emperor of Austria; and others decorated by the 
present pope, with paintings and tapestry of the utmost 
beauty. This palace has been for many years the seat of the 
conclave for the election of the Sovereign Pontiff, whose 
name is announced from the balcony over the main entrance 
to the people in the piazza below. This piazza is called Monte 
Cavallo, from the two colossal statues of horses held by 
young men which stand in its centre. These are Grecian 
productions, perhaps the works of Praxiteles and Phidias; 
and were transported to Rome by Constantine from Alexan- 
dria, and placed in his Baths, whence Sixtus Quintus 
transferred them to their present position. The gardens ad- 
joining the palace in the rear are spacious, well shaded with 
evergreens, refreshed by several fine fountains, and adorned 
with urns, statues, and various antique ornaments ; but the 
parallelogramic arrangement of walks and parterres is intole- 
rably French, and the organ played by water at a paul per 
tune for visitors discourses most hideous discords. Pio Nono 
has not summered here since his trip to Gaeta, preferring a 
greater proximity to the fortress of Sant' Angelo ! 



320 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

The Palazzo Vaticano may well close this list of Roman 
palaces. Its exterior architecture is neither imposing nor 
beautiful. It is not even uniform and symmetrical; but looks 
like a cluster of buildings huddled together without much 
regard to appearance or propriety. This is easily accounted 
for by the fact that its several parts were erected by different 
architects, at different periods, and for different purposes. 
Begun early in the sixth century, the work has been con- 
tinued under successive pontiffs, with frequent alterations 
and enlargements, reparations and improvements, down to 
the present time. All the great architects that Italy has 
produced since its commencement have been employed on 
one part or another of the edifice ; and Brain ante, Raffaello, 
Fontana, Maderno, and Bernini, successively displayed their 
respective talents in its embellishment. It is of immense 
extent, covering a space twelve hundred feet in length and a 
thousand in breadth. Its elevation is proportionate, and the 
number of apartments it contains is incredible. Its halls, 
saloons, galleries, and porticoes, are on a grand scale, and 
give an idea of magnificence truly Soman. The walls are 
neither wainscoted, nor hung with tapestry; but animated 
by the genius of the sublimest of modern artists. It is en- 
tered at the north side of the Grand Basilica of Saint Peter, 
by four successive flights of marble steps, called the Scala 
Regia, adorned with a double row of marble pillars — pro- 
bably the most superb staircase in the world. Through its 
galleries of painting and statuary, its hall of inscriptions, its 
museum of antiquities, and its unrivalled library, I wandered 
again and again for many hours together ; but to enumerate 
their contents were to write a volume, and to speak critically 
of a hundredth part of what I saw were to furnish matter for 
a library. 

I must mention a few of Rome's suburban villas, interest- 



PALACES AND VILLAS. 821 

ing, so many of them, for their fine situations, beautiful 
gardens, extensive prospects, elegant casini, and numerous 
works of art. 

The Villa Farnese, seated on the crest of the Palatine, 
covers, with its gardens, the vast substructions and scattered 
fragments of the imperial palace; and commands a full view 
of the Forum, the Capitol, the Coliseum, and most of the 
ancient city. 

"Hence the seven hills, and hence is seen, 
Whate'er great Rome can boast, the world's triumphant queen." 

The Villa Negroni, once the favorite retreat of Sixtus 
Quintus, encloses an immense area on the Esquiline and the 
Viminal, covered with groves of evergreens, containing two 
spacious and handsome buildings, and the remains of the 
celebrated rampart raised by Tarquinius Priscus. Its most 
valuable marbles, however, have been removed, and part of 
its grounds converted into vegetable gardens. 

The Villa Pamfilidoria is supposed to occupy the same 
ground as the Gardens of the Emperor Galba. It is re- 
markable for its extent, magnificence, and valuable antiqui- 
ties. It was on this elevated spot that Porsenna pitched his 
camp more than two thousand years ago ; and Marshal Oudi- 
not planted his batteries here in 1849. The grounds are 
laid out with great regularity, after the French manner; but 
the luxuriance of nature is constantly counterworking the 
formal art of man ; and the profusion of foliage and water 
renders it a delightful resort in the bright mornings of May. 

" Here many a cool retreat is found, 
Far raised o'er all the heights around." 

Nowhere did I see a finer cluster of stone-pines; and 0, how 
sweetly sang the nightingales among the cedars ! 

The Villa Madama, on the side of Monte Mario, is now 
11* 



322 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

interesting chiefly for its historical associations. In its 
gardens is a rural theatre, formed by the natural windings 
of a little dell, and delightfully shaded with trees and shrub- 
bery. In the golden days of the Medici, this sylvan scene 
was crowded by the polished Romans, who assembled to 
listen to the compositions of rival poets, and decide the pri- 
ority of contesting orators. After these literary exhibitions, 
the spectators were regaled in lofty halls, planned by Raf- 
faello, and painted by Giulio Romano, with all the delicacies 
of the orchard and the garden, amid strains of the sweetest 
music. But those clays are no more, the Medician line is 
extinct, and the villa is hastening to decay. The view from 
the hill above it is charming : the Tiber winding through 
its green meadows, spanned by the memorable Pons Milvius, . 
with its arched tower; the plain consecrated by the victory 
of Constantine; the Campus Martius, covered with the 
buildings of the modern city; while the seven hills beyond, 
and the Campagna stretching away to the mountains, 

"Make great display of Rome's immortal ruins." 

The Villa Borghese, four miles in circumference, covers 
the brow of a hill behind the Pincio. Its noble vistas, 
numerous fountains, ornamental buildings, and interesting 
collection of antiquities, entitle it to be regarded as the first 
of Roman villas, and worthy of comparison with the luxuri- 
ous retreats of Sallust and Lucullus. Portions of the grounds 
are laid out iu parallelograms, whose walks are adorned with 
temples, shaded with laurels, and refreshed with sparkling- 
cascades; but here and there a winding path allures the' 
visitor into a wilderness of plants and flowers, abandoned to 
their native luxuriance, and watered by streamlets murmur- 
ing through their own artless channels. The interior of its 
spacious casino is lined with the richest marbles, supported 
by the noblest pillars, and filled with the finest productions 



PALACES AND VILLAS. 323 

of the pencil and the chisel. Here is the famous reclining 
statue of Pauline Buonaparte by Canova, a work of won- 
drous beauty. Such, iudeed, is the splendor of these 
apartments, and the preciousness of their contents, that no 
sovereign in Europe can boast a gayer residence, or a richer 
gallery. The gates of this paradise are always open to the 
public ; and whenever the weather is good, especially on 
Sunday, multitudes of people of all descriptions, from the 
red-shanked cardinal down to the rag-screen contadine, are 
to be seen moving in every direction among the trees, or 
sitting in picturesque groups around the fountains. Fre- 
quently, through these delightful groves, fragrant with blos- 
soms and musical with singing birds, I ranged for hours 
together, and never wearied of their varied beauty. 

The Villa Ludovisi, famous for the Aurora of Guercino 
on the ceiling of its casino ; and the Villa Abani, with its 
two huge columns of alabaster, and its numerous pillars of 
granite, porphyry, serpentine, verd antique, and other pre- 
cious marbles; with all the rest, I pass by, lest I should 
weary the reader with the similarity of detail. In describing 
a few of these charming seats, one virtually describes them 
all. They may differ in extent and magnitude, but they are 
nearly the same in their principal features, their natural 
graces, and their artificial decorations. All of them enclose 
some of the same ancient ruins, contain some of the same 
interesting antiques, and present some of the same delight- 
ful views of the Historic City — 

" The field of freedom, faction, fame, and blood !" 



324 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

ANTEMNE AND FIDENE. 

SOLITARY RAMBLE ON THE CAMPAGNA INTERESTING VIEW FIERCE 

DOGS A RUIN WALK TO ANTEMNE CHARCOAL SKETCH — A SOLDIER 

ARTIST SITE OF THE CITY GREAT-BATTLE GROUND PONTE SALARO 

SCENE OF NERO'S SUICIDE NECROPOLIS AND CITADEL OF FIDENE 

HISTORICAL SKETCH. 

There is nothing I enjoy more than a solitary ramble iu 
the country. Even at home, I love to wander at leisure 
through " the grand old woods," or sit down in the shade 
by some rippling brook, and give myself up to revery. But 
in Italy, where every hill has borne a city, and every stream 
reddened with battle-blood, and every foot of soil entombed 
its hero — where every rock is a history, every ruin an epic 
poem, and every ivy-mantled tower a sermon for the heart — 
there is an indescribable pleasure in such au excursion, and 
the soul, communing with the past, learns something of her 
own littleness, sees the vanity of man and all his works, and 
looks away from the perishable to the eternal. 

One charming morning, with Dennis's " Cities and Ceme- 
teries of Etruria" under my arm, I sauntered along the old 
Flaminian Way, little knowing, and as little caring, whither 
I went, till I found myself on a lofty precipice overlooking 
the Tiber, eight miles above the city. Here I seated myself 
upou a block of tufo, which Etruscan hands two thousand 
years ago had hewn into its quadrangular form, unfolded my 



ANTEMNE AND EIDENE. 325 

map, and for two full hours feasted eye and soul with the 
strange beauty of the scene around me. 

Below me, visible for many miles, flowed the classic Tiber, 
in many a graceful curve, through a rich valley, bounded 
with gently sloping hills, and here and there a bold promon- 
tory looking down into its golden current. On my left, 
between romantic cliffs, brilliant with innumerable flowers, 
descended a foaming torrent — the Cremera of ancient story. 
On its bank, five miles above, where I could plainly see the 
Isola Farnese, once stood the populous and powerful Veii, 
for more than three centuries the most formidable foe of 
Home. There were the heights on which Camillas encamped 
before her gates, and from which he wept over the flight of 
her miserable children. Near where I sat — perhaps upon 
the very spot — the noble band of the Fabii built their 
castle, and in that valley beneath me were lured within the 
fatal ambush. On a small eminence, just across the Tiber, 
was the Castel Giubeleo, where once frowned the arx of 
Fidene, the constant ally of the Veientes in their frequent 
conflicts with the Romans. Just below it stands the Villa 
Spada, upon the supposed site of the ancient Villa Phaon. 
It was there Romulus concealed his soldiers, till he had 
drawn the Fidenates without the gates of the city ; and there 
Nero disgracefully terminated his most disgraceful life. 
Farther down the river, just where the Anio flows into it 
from Tivoli, was another promontory, which of old bore the 
arx of Antemne, the first of the neighboring cities subdued 
by Romulus. With the aid of my glass, I could trace the 
little valley of the Anio to the base of the Sabine Mountains, 
eighteen or twenty miles distant. Never looked that pictur- 
esque range more beautiful than on that morning. Never 
was the light along their lower slopes of a richer and softer 
tint, and never gleamed their distant snow-robed summits 
with a diviner glory. 



826 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

As I sat in a half-dreanry mood, superinduced partly by 
the delicious languor of the atmosphere, partly bj r the be- 
wildering beauty of the surrounding scenery, and partly 
by its melancholy historic associations, the dull booming 
sound of the cannon from the Castle of St. Angelo announced 
the hour of noon, and the great bell of St. Peter's sent its 
sweet echoes over the hills. Then I arose, and pursued my 
walk, through a scene of dreary desolation, strewn every- 
where with the ruins of long-departed power and splendor. 
Returning to Eome across the wild campagna, I discovered 
some distance before me what I supposed to be a hay-stack ; 
but upon my approach, a number of very formidable dogs 
rushed out upon me, and I was obliged to do valiant battle 
for my life. I soon ascertained that it was tenanted by 
other animals than dogs — certain very suspicious-looking 
bipeds, in hairy goat-skin breeches — whether men or satyrs, 
I could not say. I afterward saw several of these shep- 
herd's huts — for such they were — which I deemed it prudent 
not to approach too near. On the declivity of a hill I passed 
the mouth of what I first took to be a natural cave in the 
rock ; but, upon examination, found to consist of great square 
masses of stone, without any appearance of mortar; and 
near it were the remains of several similar arches, which to- 
gether with it must have constituted the ruins of some 
ancient building of vast dimensions. The arch seemed still 
to serve, in a manner, its original purpose ; for there was 
some straw within, with a stool, two or three kettles, a.nd 
traces of a recent fire ; but, remembering my late adventure, 
I abstained from any very close inspection of the premises. 
When I reached the city, I was told that I had been where 
it was deemed very dangerous for any person, especially a 
forestiero, alone and unarmed, to venture. 

Not satisfied with the distant view I had enjoyed of those 
ancient cities, the next week I set forth, in company with 



ANTEMNE AND EIDENE. 827 

two American gentlemen, on a pedestrian excursion toward 
Antemne and Fidene. The cities themselves, indeed, are 
no more, having perished more than two thousand years 
ago ; nor are there any traces of them remaining, except the 
sepulchral excavations in the surrounding cliffs, with here 
and there a detached block of hewn tufo, and innumerable 
fragments of pottery ; but the hills whereon they stood are 
near the ancient Via Salaria, on the left bank of the Tiber, 
one of them three miles above Rome, and the other five. 
These cities appear to have been taken, originally, from the 
Siculi, by the Pelasgi; and were afterward, according to 
Dionysius, for a time, possessed by the Sabines ; but were at 
length conquered by the Romans, and reduced to the condi- 
tion of Roman colonies. 

Antemne was one of the three whose daughters became 
the mothers of the Roman race. Romulus, to people the 
new city which he had built upon the Palatine, offered an 
asylum to fugitive slaves, insolvent debtors, and all sorts 
of criminals and adventurers. By this means, he soon filled 
the place with men, such as they were; and his next care 
was to provide a proportionate number of women. For this 
purpose, he sought an alliance with the Sabines, but they 
rejected the proposal with disdain. Hereupon, by advice 
of the Senate, he proclaimed a magnificent feast in honor of 
Neptune, and invited the Sabines from all the surrounding 
cities. They came in crowds, and brought their wives and 
daughters with them. While their attention was taken up 
with the games, the young Romans, with drawn swords, 
rnshed in among them, seized the damsels, and bore them 
away in their arms. The fathers, brothers, and lovers, of 
course, were greatly incensed, and vowed revenge. An- 
temne, being nearest to Rome, was first in the war. Romu- 
lus, however, prevailed against her. In a short time she 



328 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

was subdued, her inhabitants removed to Rome, and a 
Roman colony placed there in their stead. 

We passed the gardens of Sallust, and left the city by the 
Porta Salaria. Just within the gate we saw a young Ger- 
man, in the French uniform, drawing a charcoal sketch upon 
a whitewashed wall. It was Gasparoni and his band, 
attacked by the Roman soldiers. The figure of the chief, as 
large as life, was exceedingly fine, and the whole scene was 
full of spirit. The soldiers and the robbers were grappling 
one another with desperate energy, shooting, stabbing, hurl- 
ing one another headlong down the rocks; and many a poor 
fellow, doubtless after having done his best, lay stretched in 
death upon the ground. 

But meritorious as the picture was, the artist himself was 
a far more interesting study. He told us that from his 
childhood he had been an enthusiastic lover of art, and 
cherished a great desire to become a painter ; but his purse 
was not commensurate with his ambition. He joiuecl the 
French army, thinking that if he could get to Ptome, he 
might find opportunity to indulge his passion and improve 
his talent. Hitherto, however, he had been unsuccessful. 
Posted at the Porta Salaria, and having plenty of time, he 
amused himself in the manner I have mentioned. After 
fifteen minutes of pleasing conversation with him, we offered 
him a few baiocchi, which he very reluctantly accepted, and 
went on our way toward the " many-towered Antemne." 

It is a pleasure to walk the beautiful macadamized roads 
of Italy, especially here upon the picturesque Campagna, 
where every object is so rich in historical associations; and 
still more, when one has such companions as I had that day, 
to share his thoughts and feelings. With G-ell's Topography, 
and map in our hands, we were soon among the ruins of 
Antemne. The ruvns,l say; but there is scarcely anything 



ANTEMNE AND PIDENE. 329 

to be seen, worthy of such designation. The site, indeed, 
has been most satisfactorily ascertained ; but there is nothing 
to indicate, except to the practiced eye of the antiquary, 
that the place was ever occupied by a city. It lies on the 
left of the Via Salaria, just below the junction of the Anio 
with the Tiber. It is a lofty table-land, nearly square, and 
falling off precipitously on all sides, except that toward 
Rome, where a narrow ridge unites it to the neighboring 
hill. Such situations were always chosen by the earlier in- 
habitants of Italy for the sites of their cities. 

We easily found the places of the four gates indicated by 
Gell, and the two eminences on which he locates the two 
citadels. Near the base of the cliff, on the southern side, is 
a horizontal excavation — probably a tomb, and doubtless of 
Etruscan date. Higher up, and a little farther toward the 
west, is a mass of rocks, piled one upon another in a very 
regular manner; but the angles are so rounded by the 
abrasion of centuries, that it is difficult to say with confi- 
dence whether it is the work of nature or of man. There is 
another cavern near the top of the cliff, and here and there 
a block of tufo in the plain below. With these exceptions, 
we saw nothing that could be called ruins. It would be a 
wonder, indeed, if there were any, after the ground has been 
ploughed and pastured for so many centuries. But it is no 
less a wonder, that a city which perished before the age of 
authentic history, should, without any such remains, have 
preserved unquestionable indications of its former existence ; 
and yet, there is no ancient city, the precise locality of 
which has been more indubitably ascertained, than that 
of Virgil's " Turrigerse Antemnse." 

But whatever of interesting relics may be lacking in the 
site, is abundantly compensated by its associations and 
adjacent scenery. Behind us lay the beautiful grounds 
of the Villa Albani, the Villa Borghese, and the Monte 



330 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Pincio — a perfect forest of flowers and evergreens, beyond 
which rose the domes and towers of the Eternal City. On 
our left, at the base of the cliff on which we stood, rolled 
the Tiber in its majesty, whirling along huge masses of ice 
from the mountains, as anciently the bodies of Sabine and 
Etruscan soldiers. Farther down, but in full view, stood 
the ancient Milvian Bridge — now the Ponte Molle, where 
the hopes of Paganism perished with Maxentius. Along the 
opposite side of the river was easily traced the Via Flaminia, 
at the base of a lofty precipice, in which yawned the dark 
mouth of a cavern, the celebrated tomb of the Nasoni. 
Just before us, almost within a stone' s-throw, the quiet Anio 
wound its way through the green meadows, till it fell into 
the Tiber. And there at our right was the Ponte Salaro — a 
venerable relic of antiquity — perhaps the identical bridge 
which, in the year of Rome 397, was the scene of a fierce en- 
counter between the Romans and the Gauls, encamped on 
opposite banks of the stream ; and where Manlius Torquatus, 
like another David, smote his Goliath to the dust. On the 
same ground Tolumnius, the king of Etruria, had long before 
fallen beneath the sword of Cornelius Cossus. A mile or 
two farther up the same river stood the famous Mons Sacer, 
to which, in the days of the Dictator Largius, the aggrieved 
soldiery and citizens of Rome retired to organize a distinct 
and independent community; whither an embassy was sent 
from the Senate to solicit their return, and where Meuenius 
Agrippa put forth the celebrated fable, so finely told by 
Livy, of the revolt of the members of the body against the 
belly — a conference which resulted in the reconciliation of 
the people, the reformation of the government, and the insti- 
tution of the office of the Tribunes. 

Two miles and a half farther up the Tiber, on a high bluff 
in a bend of the river, stood the Gastel Giubeleo — so called 
because it was erected in one of the years of Jubilee. 



ANTEMNE AND FIDENE. 331 

It is nothing more than a large farm-house, and interesting 
only because it occupies the ground once occupied by the 
citadel of Fidene. Between this and the height on which 
we stood was a broad plain, with the Tiber on the left, and 
a low range of hills on the right. This was the great battle- 
ground between the Romans and their foes, in the earlier 
periods of their history; and probably there is no other place 
in Italy which has been so often the scene of bloody contests. 
It was here that Romulus pursued the flying Fidenates 
within their very gates, when he first laid upon them the 
Roman yoke. It was here that Tullus Hostilius encamped 
before their walls, until he starved them into a surrender. 
It was here that Ancus Martius led his forces, when he 
entered the city by a cuniculus. It was here that Tarquinius 
Priscus thundered along with his legions, when he stormed 
the citadel. It was here that the Consuls Valerius and 
Lucretius marched with their heavy engines to batter down 
the fortifications. It was here that their successor, Largius 
Flavius, sis years afterward, sat down with his flock of 
locusts, till famine gained for him what he could not achieve 
by the sword. It was here that the Dictator A. Servilius 
Priscus, sixty-three years later, marched his beleaguering 
host, to tunnel the solid tufa, and work his way underground 
into the centre of the city. It was here that Mamilius 
Emilius Mamercinus, four hundred and twenty-three years 
before Christ, chased the fugitives from the plain into their 
fortresses, entering after them, taking possession of their 
city, and bringing them effectually and finally under the 
Roman yoke. And it was here, on the banks of the Anio, 
and along the Tiber, that the Romans contested the ground 
with Hannibal, when he marched from Capua ; and met in 
deadly conflict the invading Gauls. Ah, what scenes of 
carnage have been witnessed from this height ! But now 
thousands of sheep are feeding peacefully in those fields ; 



832 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and skylarks are soaring and singing as blithely over the 
scene, as if it had never reddened with blood, nor trembled 
with the tumnlt of battle. 

We descended the hill, and crossed the Ponte Salaro. 
This bridge, as well as the Ponte Molle, was blown up by the 
Romans in 1849, to cut off the approach of the French 
army; but the injury was comparatively small, and was soon 
afterward remedied. The old Etruscan work is still plainly 
seen in the basement of its piers. Just beyond it is a very 
ancient building — it may have been a tomb or a tower — sur- 
mounted by a modern structure of the middle ages, and 
forming a very picturescpie object in the landscape. ' It is 
now an Osteria. We entered, and found it occupied by a 
man, a boy, three dogs, five cats, and some millions of fleas. 
In one corner was a box filled with earth, upon which a fire 
was burning, and the only way of escape for the smoke was 
the door. We sat down here to dispatch our luncheon, but 
it was impossible to remain long in such an atmosphere. 

On the other side of the road, a little farther on, we passed 
several tombs hewn in the rock, some evidently of Etruscan 
origin, and some, perhaps, of Roman. A walk of two miles 
and a' half brought us to the Villa Spacla, just back of 
which, on a small conical hill, was the ancient Villa Pliaon. 
The road passes around the western base of the hill ; but we 
went through the field on the other side of it, probably the 
very ground over which Nero passed when he fled hither 
from the vengeance of Rome. It was then a thicket of 
brambles; G-ell calls it "a little wood;" but we found it an 
orchard of olive trees. When the tyrant heard that G-alba 
had taken up arms against him, he first thought of taking 
poison, then ran to plunge into the Tiber, and finally fled 
the city on horseback. Finding himself pursued, he left 
his horse, quit the highway, and crept through the bushes 
and briers to the back of Phaon's Villa. Here he drew his 



ANTEMNE AND PIDENE. 333 

dagger to stab himself, but bis courage again failed him. 
Tben be desired one of bis freedmen to kill him ; but bis 
freedman declined the honor. Next he requested a domes- 
tic to die first, in order to inspire him with courage ; but his 
domestic could not see the reasonableness of such a request. 
At length he put a dagger to his throat, and the servant who 
would not die for him assisted him to die for himself; and 
thus fitly terminated his brutal and bloody life. Parts of the 
walls of the villa are still seen upon the hill ; and huge 
masses of stone imbedded in a strong cement, with fragments 
of granite columns, have rolled down into the valley below. 

Just beyond this are the tombs of Ficlene, excavated in 
the rock beneath tbe city walls. We struck a light, and 
entered one of the openings, and found ourselves in large 
rooms, fifty feet square, which communicated one with 
another. There were niches for cinerary urns, and benches 
of rock for the bodies of the dead. One we found tenanted 
by a shepherd, whose entire knowledge concerning the origin 
and history of his strange abode was comprised in three 
words — u ll grotta antica." The top of the hill bears une- 
quivocal remains of masonry ; the walls are easily traced, and 
the sites of the several gates are quite evident. On the 
almost insulated height occupied by tbe Castel G-iubeleo, it 
is supposed, with great probability, stood the principal arx; 
and there may have been another on a similar elevation to 
the northeast of it, where are many tombs in the cliff, and 
traces of foundations on the top. The rugged steep on all 
sides is covered with a dense growth of briers, and the 
whole area above is adorned with white daisies and purple 
crocuses. 

Fidene was a great and powerful city in the days of Rom- 
ulus ; but she has utterly perished, and 'the ruin of Antemne 
is not more complete. The occasion of her first capture was 
the seizure by her citizens of several boats, sent down the ' 



334 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Tiber from Crustumerium, laden with corn for the Romans. 
Her subsequent history is nothing but a series of struggles 
against ber conqueror — of successive rebellions and submis- 
sions to Rome. Again and again she threw off the yoke; 
again and again it was laid with double weight upon her 
shoulder. At length Rome deemed it best to pluck the 
thorn from her side; and about four hundred and twenty- 
three years before Christ, Fidene was totally demolished. 
But the place was re-colonized under the emperors, and for 
some time it was a flourishing Roman settlement, and a favor- 
ite resort of the Roman people. During the reign of 
Tiberius, one Attilius gave a gladiatorial entertainment 
there, when a wooden amphitheatre, erected for the purpose, 
broke down, killing fifty thousand spectators. It is now a 
wild dreary down, where shepherds lead their flocks ; and 
after having walked across and around it, up and clown the 
hills, in every direction, and finding nothing more than I 
have mentioned, we returned to Rome, and entered the gate 
just before sunset, having walked not less than eighteen 
miles during the day. 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 335 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 

HISTORICAL SKETCH OUR VISIT — THE CAMPAGNA ISOLA FARNESE 

ANTONIO VALERI TARPEIAN ROCK UTTER DESOLATION PONTE 

SODO NECROPOLIS PAINTED TOMB FORUM OF ROMAN MUNICIPIUM 

COLUMBARIA SECOND AND THIRD VISITS ADDITIONAL DISCOVE- 
RIES SERPENTS PIAZZA D'ARMI — TEMPLE OF JUNO LA SCALETTA 

GROTTA CAMPANA RETURN TO ROME. 

Veii, the most opulent and powerful city of ancient Etru- 
ria, was situated eleven miles north of Rome. It is said to 
have heen founded by Propertius, and was at the acme of its 
prosperity eight hundred years before Christ. Dionysius 
says that it was equal in extent to Athens, and not inferior 
in architecture to Rome. Its circumference, as indicated by 
the present aspect of the ground and the remaining traces 
of the wall, could not have been less than six or seven miles. 
The style of the masonry differs entirely from that of the 
Romans, consisting of large blocks of stone, generally' 
rectangular, and fitted together without any sort of cement, 
proving a much higher antiquity than any remains of the 
neighboring city of Romulus. 

Of this great city we have no certain information, except 
what the Roman writers have furnished us in the record of 
their wars. Her chronicles are notices merely of successive 
contests with her powerful foe; and since "the man, and 



836 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

not the lion, drew the picture," chiefly of successive disas- 
ters and defeats. It is melancholy, indeed, to trace her 
bloody trail across the field of history; hut let us remember, 
that except for that bloody trail, we should never have known 
so much as the name of Veii, and her eleven Etrurian sis- 
ters. Florus calls the Veientes " the unceasing and annual 
enemies of Rome;" and no less than fourteen distinct wars 
with that powerful rival, all within four hundred and fifty 
years, are registered by the historian. 

The first of these was with Romulus, to avenge his capture 
of the neighboring city of Fidene. The second was in aid 
of Fidene against Tullus Hostilius. The third was in self- 
defence, against the ambition of Ancus Martins. The fourth 
was in alliance with eleven other cities of Etruria against 
Tarquinius Friscus. In all these wars, of course, the 
Romans were conquerors, as their own historians tell the 
story. About the year of Rome 180, the Veientes again 
threw off the yoke, and were followed by the rest of the con- 
federation, and the succeeding twenty years was a series of 
bloody contests with Servius Tullius ; whose arms, however, 
according to the records, were always victorious. Sixty-five 
years after this war ended, the Veientes espoused the cause 
of Tarquinius Superbus, who for his profligacies and oppres- 
sions had been driven from the throne of Rome ; and a bat- 
tle ensued near the Arsian Wood, in which Aruns, the son 
of the exiled king, and Brutus the first consul, fell by 
each other's hands; after which the forces of confederate 
Etruria, under Porsenna their leader, marched to the inva- 
sion of the Eternal City. After another treaty, followed by 
twenty-four years of peace, the Veientes were battling once 
more with the Roman legions. Servius Cornelius Cossus 
defeated them as usual, and then granted them a truce ; but 
in five years more the rebels were again in the field, and 
marched boldly up to the Roman camp, and dared the foe to 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 837 

the combat; upon which a severe battle ensued, and very likely 
the Romans came off second best, though the historians assert 
the contrary. 

In the following year, while Rome was pressed by the 
Veientes on the one hand, and the Equi and the Volsci on 
tbe other, occurred an instance of patriotic devotion to 
which there is scarcely a recorded parallel. When several 
plans had been suggested for repelling the Veientes, and 
the senate seemed greatly perplexed and straitened, Ceso 
Fabius, the consul, and chief of the Roman patricians, 
arose and said : " Conscript Fathers, look ye to the Equi 
and the Volsci, and leave the Veientes to the Fabii. The 
republic hath need of men and money elsewhere : be this 
war at our expense: we will engage to uphold the majesty 
of the Roman name/' The next day the whole body of the 
Fabii — three hundred and six in number — all of the 
noblest patrician blood, with the consul at their head, 
marched forth from the city, amid the prayers and joyful 
shouts of the populace. " Never," says Livy, " did an 
army so small in number, or so great in action, and in the 
admiration of their countrymen, mai'ch through the streets 
of Rome." When they reached the Oremera, they pitched 
their camp on a precipice-girt hill, and further protected it 
by a double fosse and numerous towers. Here they main- 
tained themselves for a year against all the efforts of the 
Veientes to dislodge them, ravaging their territory, and an- 
noying them in many ways; till the consul, Emilius 
Mamercus, defeated them, and obliged them to sue for 
peace. The next year, however, they renewed the war, and 
determined to accomplish by stratagem what they had here- 
tofore vainly attempted by force. They laid an ambush on 
the banks of the Cremera, and then sent shepherds down 
the valley with their flocks. The Fabii, beholding these 
from the height of their castle, descended like an eagle 
15 



388 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

upon the prey. But as they were returning with the spoil 
they had taken, the foe rushed forth upon them in over- 
whelming numbers. Bravely did they battle for their lives, 
till the last man fell covered with wounds ; and only a boy 
escaped, who lived to preserve the race, and be the progeni- 
tor of Fabius Maximus. 

This achievement of the Veientes was but the prelude to 
a nobler victory. They routed the Roman army under the 
command of the Consul Menenius, and took possession of 
the Janiculan Hill. Here they maintained themselves for 
many months, menacing and annoying the city, till they 
were at length dislodged by the consuls. The next year 
they were again defeated by Valerius, and the year following 
by Manlius, from whom they obtained a peace for forty - 
years. In the year of Rome 809 they resumed hostilities. 
Seven years later they espoused the cause of the Fidenates, 
whe had thrown off the Roman yoke; and slew the Roman 
ambassadors sent to demand an explanation. Soon after this 
they engaged the foe, under the command of Mamelius 
Emilius, on the bank of the Tiber; and Lars Tolumnius, 
their king and commander, was cut down by the sword of 
Cornelius Cossus. Again and again they met their enemies 
on the same field, and again and again the crimsoned cur- 
rent of the Tiber reported the slaughter to the inhabitants 
of Rome. Nay, again and again they marched up to the 
very gates of the city, and the foster : children of the she- 
wolf quailed before them. 

At length, in the year of Rome 349, the Romans laid 
siege to Veii; and being at peace elsewhere, brought their 
whole force to bear against their ancient foe. When the 
siege had already continued eight years with little or no suc- 
cess, a remarkable phenomenon furnished the occasion of 
victory. The Alban Lake, occupying the crater of an 
extinct volcano, suddenly rose to an unprecedented height, 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 339 

and threatened to burst its boundary, and devastate the 
Campagna with floods. Sacrifices were offered to the gods, 
and messengers were sent to Delphi to consult the oracle. 
The answer was, that if the Romans would drain the lake 
by tunnelling the mountain, they should save their city, and 
stand victors on the walls of Veii. Meantime, a prophecy 
to the same effect had been uttered by one of the Veientes, 
first to a Roman soldier, and subsequently to the Roman 
senate. In the course of another year the lake was drained 
as the goddess directed, and the Romans fought with new 
confidence of victory. Camillus, who was now appointed 
dictator, and assumed the command of the army, taking a 
hint perhaps from the tunnel at Albano, began to work a 
citniculus, or mine, under the citadel of Veii. The siege 
had lasted ten years when the cuniculus was finished. It 
was carried up to the very floor of the Temple of Juno, 
which was within the citadel. The king was there, con- 
sulting the oracle, when Camillus with his men burst 
through the floor, and ascended as from the infernal regions, 
and took possession of the city. So runs the story, which, 
however, I do not hold the reader strictly bound to believe, 
since Livy does not appear to believe it himself. 

Half a century after this the place was utterly deserted ; 
and at the commencement of the reign of Augustus Csesax' 
it was only a pasturage for flocks. That emperor established 
a Roman colony upon its ruins, which flourished for a sea- 
son, and then fell into decay, and was finally abandoned. 
Veii was now obliterated from the map of Italy, and the 
very place where it had stood remained unknown for ages. 
When, on the revival of letters, attention was called to the 
subject of Italian antiquities, its site became a matter of 
dispute, and eight or ten different localities were assigned by 
as many different antiquaries. Later researches have settled 
the question; and there is now no doubt that the ruins 



340 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

I am about to describe are the remains of that once mag- 
nificent rival and mighty adversary of E.ome. They lie 
scattered over a lofty triangular table-land, seven miles in 
circumference, nearly surrounded by two streams, which 
flow along at the foot of the precipice — one of them called 

II Formello, and the other II Fosso dei due Fossi — which 
unite below to form the Valca — beyond all question, the 
ancient Cremera. A position stronger by nature could 
scarcely have been selected ; and, in the days of Veil, 
nothing was more important than such a situation. 

I resolved on an early visit to the ruins. Two of our 
American friends, an artist and his wife, cheerfully con- 
sented to bear us company. Abate Scotti, the friendly 
priest, generously volunteered his services in procuring us a" 
vettura for the trip. The morning was clear and beautiful, 
just suitable for such an excursion. How merrily we rat- 
tled down the Via Frattina, and up the Corso, and through 
the Porta del Popolo, and along the old Flaminian Road, 
and over the ancient Milvian Bridge ! 

An hour and a half brought us to the castle of Isola Far- 
nese — a building of the middle ages, upon substructions of a 
much earlier period. It is perched, like an eagle's nest, 
upon a steep and lofty rock, apparently inaccessible on all 
sides, except that by which we approached. In connection 
with it is a hamlet of miserable huts, tenanted by some 
twenty-five or thirty souls, which might be suspected of 
being human, if their bodies were not too evidently Italian. 
The precipice in every direction yawns with caverns, mani- 
festly the work of human hands, where many of the ancient 
Veians doubtless " slept their last sleep/' hard by the walls 
on which they "fought their last battle." 

The arx or citadel of Veil, as some have imagined it, this 
place never could have been ; for there is a broad valley be- 
tween it and the city, with a stream three hundred feet 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 341 

below, and no appearance — scarcely a possibility — of any 
direct means of communication. It has been supposed also 
to be the site of the castle of the Fahii ; but this -is still 
more unlikely than the former opinion ; for the situation, so 
near the city, would by no means answer the purpose of the 
Roman Spartans, and such a locality is quite incompatible 
with the facts of the history. 

But what have I to do with the quarrels of antiquarians ? 
or what boots the discussion of their sage conjectures, after 
both Fahii and Veientes have mouldered for so many, centu- 
ries in the dust ? Besides, one of our party insists that this 
was the citadel of Veii, because she came to see it as such, 
and will not consent that it shall be any thing else; and it 
were surely ungracious in me to explode her castle in the 
air, when nobody is likely to be benefited by its catastrophe. 

At the foot of Isola Farnese we halted, and soon had 
around us about two-thirds of the village population. Mur- 
ray and Dennis both speak of " the worthy Antonio 
Valeri," as keeping the key of "the Painted Tomb," and 
ready to conduct strangers among the ruins. For him, 
therefore, I immediately inquired ; but the thin and sallow 
rag-screens shook their heads sadly, and replied : u Antonio 
6 morto sign'ore — Antonio 6 morto." At first I suspected 
this for an Italian trick, with a view to personal pecuniary 
profit; but upon further interrogation, it turned out that 
Mr. Dennis's " big burly" friend had indeed departed this 
life at the time the Pope departed for Gaeta; and as there 
are no " happy-death" papers published hereabout, Murray 
had probably never heard of his demise ; and in the last 
edition of his Hand-book, printed less than two years ago, 
he recommends the dead man to lead us through the buried 
city, and among its ancient sepulchres. Shade of Tolum- 
nius, protect us from such a cicerone ! Not that I, for my 
part, loved Antonio less — for I had begun to regard him 



342 A TEAR IN EUROPE. 

already as an old acquaintance, and I felt that in his death I 
had lost a friend, and mourned his untimely fate with the 
sincerest sorrow — but that I loved our fair fellow-pilgrims 
more, and knew that they needed something more substan- 
tial than such ghostly help in climbing the rugged heights 
and threading the tangled thickets before us. To our 
great grief, we learned also that the key of the Painted 
Tomb was missing — whether Antonio had taken it with him, 
or it had been lost since he left the Isola, they did not 
inform us — and that it would be impossible to see the inte- 
rior of that celebrated monument of ancient art and affec- 
tion. But, determined to make the best of our double 
disappointment, we selected the most honest-looking cut- 
throat of the gang, forthwith installed him as poor Antonio's 
successor, and followed him, on foot, over rock and ruin, 
amid the melancholy remembrances of the times of old. 

Descending from the Isola by a winding way, we crossed 
the Fosso del due Fossi near a modern mill, where the 
stream plunges over a precipice into the gulf eighty feet 
below, forming one of the most beautiful cascades I have 
ever seen, while the cliff above rises some two hundred feet 
higher. Nibby supposes this to have been the Tarpeian 
Rock of Veil, whence criminals were precipitated headlong 
to their fate. Perhaps it was — I shall not controvert his 
opinion ; but we do not know that the Veians had any Tar- 
peian Rock, or needed any; and if they practiced any such 
mode of punishment, a hundred other places in the neigh- 
borhood would have answered the purpose as well as this. 

Here our artist sat down to take a sketch, and we went 
forward to await him on the heights above. We ascended 
by a steep and narrow passage cut through the tufo, which 
must have been the site of a gate, for on each side are evi- 
dent traces of the wall. Reaching the summit of the hill, 
from which we could see nearly the whole area of the city, 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 343 

nothing met the view but wild and desolate downs, scattered 
over with huge blocks of hewn stone, foundations of mas- 
sive walls, fragments of marble and pottery, here and there 
a copse of briers and brushwood, and a fringe of larger 
growth upon the brink of the precipice enclosing the whole. 
There were no large and lofty remains, like those of Eome, 
of Athens, or Egypt, majestic even in their decay — no Coli- 
seum, nor Parthenon, nor Pyramids — nothing, indeed, at 
first sight, to remind one that here stood the stately struc- 
tures and swarmed the busy population of a mighty city — 
the southern bulwark of Etruria, the most formidable enemy 
of infant Rome, and for nearly four centuries her rival in 
military prowess, and her instructress in the arts of civilized 
life. As Dennis says, " The very skeleton of Veii has 
crumbled to dust — the city is its own sepulchre." Yet in 
this vast area was ample room for the play of imagination. 
What scenes of joy and sorrow have been witnessed here — 
what meetings and partings of lovers — marriage festivities 
and funeral solemnities — the hum of the market-place and 
the grave deliberations of senates — the charm of popu- 
lar eloquence and the divine fascinations of song — kings 
crowned and uncrowned — solemn embassies entertained — 
armies mustered for the conflict ! And now there is not a 
sound to be heard but the distant barking of a shepherd's 
dog, and the sweet chant of the skylark and the nightingale 
filling the solitude with joy. 

In half an hour the sketch was completed, and the 
sketcher rejoined the company. We now went across the 
fields toward the north, passing several fragments and foun- 
dations, also a place which had lately been excavated, where 
we found some fine pieces of white and colored marble. 
Then we descended to the Formello, which washes the base 
of the cliff that bore the city wall. At the place where we 
crossed the stream appear to have been a gate and a bridge. 



344 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

From this point we followed the brook, with a steep, rocky 
bank on the other side of it, surmounted here and there by 
the remains of ancient masonry, till we came to the Ponle 
Sodo. This is a tunnel, through which the stream flows, 
two hundred and forty feet long, about fifteen feet wide, and 
nearly twenty feet high. At first, it might be taken for a 
natural formation ; but upon further examination it turns 
out to be evidently artificial. I entered it as far as I could 
without wading in the water, and found that in the roof 
there were two square apertures, which may have been the 
mouths of sluices, or perhaps communicated with the towers 
above. On the top, in a line with the wall, are two mounds 
' — one of them very large, indicating, as Grell thinks, a dou- 
ble gate. Here, then, must have been one of the chief ■ 
entrances of the city, and this excavated rock was the 
bridge over which rolled the chariots of Porsenna and 
Tolumnius. It is likely, from the form of the ground, that 
the stream originally passed around this place, some distance 
from the cliff, and this tunnel was made in order to bring it 
close under the city wall. 

At the mouth of the cavern we sat down to refresh our- 
selves with a luncheon. The view was exceedingly fine. 
The precipice of gray and yellow tufo, in alternate layers, 
adorned with the greenest lichens and the most delicate 
blossoms, and overhung by a luxuriant growth of ilex and 
ivy, from which at intervals peeped out fragments of the 
ancient wall ; the dark excavation below, with the water 
dripping from its roof, and sparkling like diamonds in the 
sunshine as it fell into the soft, pure stream : all this, inde- 
pendent even of any associations of the past, was full of 
beauty. Our artist thought it worthy of his pencil, and 
employed another half hour in sketching. 

From the bridge, twenty or thirty minutes' walk down the 
valley brought us to the Necrojjolis. The tombs are. exca- 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 345 

vated in the side of the hill, opposite the city. There are 
several tiers of them, one above another. A large number — 
Dennis says "thousands" — have been opened, robbed of 
their precious contents, and their entrances again filled up 
with earth. The Queen of Sardinia, who owned the land, 
formerly let it out to excavators — most of them dealers in anti- 
quities at Rome — who rifled them of their urns, vases, 
jewelry, statuary, and every thing convertible into cash, and 
then closed them up again. 

We clambered up the hill to the entrance of the Painted 
Sepulchre — the oldest and most interesting yet discovered in 
Italy, and perhaps not less ancient than any of the remains 
lately found amid the mounds of Assyria and Babylonia. 
And now it was, Antonio Valeri, that we profoundly 
lamented thy untimely fate ! Hadst thou lived, thou " big, 
burly" friend of George Dennis, thou cicerone whom Mur- 
ray " delighteth to honor," doubtless the key had not been 
lost, and we might have explored the interior of this famous 
charnel-house of antiquity ! There, indeed, was the avenue, 
cut into the side of the hill toward the centre, eighty feet 
long, six feet wide at the entrance, and ten at the mouth of 
the tomb ; and there were the four couchant lions that have 
guarded it faithfully for twenty-five centuries or more — two 
of them headless, but still erect — the other two, fallen and 
shattered ; and there was the huge rough wall of ancient 
masonry, and the modern iron grating through which we 
looked into one of the dark side-chambers, and the modern 
i iron door to the principal vault where slept the mighty dead — 
it may have been one of the kings of Veii ; but there was 
nothing more to be seen ! It was enough to incense a saint; 
and I could have scourged the whole vagabond herd of Isola 
Farnese, with the pope and his cardinals besides, for suffer- 
ing so interesting a relic of the past to lie thus neglected! 
Near this, however, as an instance of the law of coinpeusa- 
15* 



346 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

tion, SO; much talked of by our modern sages, I found another 
sepulchre, standing open, and containing a sarcophagus in 
perfect preservation, the cover of which appeared never to 
have been removed. Who knows what may be in that sar- 
cophagus ? 

From the Necropolis we descended again to the Formello ; 
and, a little farther down, came to a mass of masonry, which 
seems to have been the pier of a bridge. On the other side 
was manifestly the site of a gate flanked with towers ; between 
which were remains of the pavement, deeply grooved by 
the chariot-wheels. Not far from this, in a place which still 
bears evidence of modern excavations, though overgrown 
with tangled and impenetrable briers, antiquaries locate the 
forum of the Roman Municipium, erected here in the reign 
of the Emperor Augustus. Here were found the colossal 
busts and statues already mentioned as being in the Vatican, 
and the twelve Ionic columns of marble which sustain the 
portico of the post-office at Rome. 

Just at the gate, and on both sides of it, are the famous 
Columbaria — consisting of a great number of niches, hewn 
in the perpendicular rock, to receive the urns containing the 
ashes of the dead. These, as Dennis supposes, belonged to 
the Roman Municipium, though Grell and Lenoir both 
regarded them as part of the Necropolis of ancient Veil. 
The Columbaria, when first opened, contained stuccos and 
paintings in excellent preservation ; but these, with the 
cinerary urns, have long since disappeared; and I found 
nothing in the niches but some purple crocuses, of which I 
gathered a few for Mrs. C.'s herbarium. 

Nine days elapsed, and I revisited Veii, in company with 
an agreeable New-Yorker, who took great delight in archaeo- 
logical investigations; and a week afterward I went again, 
in capacity of cicerone to a party of six, three of whom were 
English clergymen. In both instances, we spent the whole 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 847 

day, and made the entire circuit of the walls, and wandered 
over the area which they enclosed in every direction, walk- 
ing each time not less than twelve miles. We met with 
many interesting remains which in the first visit had escaped 
my notice, and examined largely and at leisure those of 
which I had then taken but a brief and superficial survey. 
Some hours we lingered about the Ponte Socio, climbing the 
cliffs, tracing the walls, and scrutinizing the remains of those 
enormous towers. We discovered a fragment of the " mas- 
sive stone masonry, resting upon a substruction cf bricks, 
each three feet long," which G-ell mentions in his Topo- 
graphy of Rome ; but which Mr. Dennis, after " beating the 
bush on all sides," failed to find. Mr. Dennis, by the way, 
though an agreeable journalist, is not a very profound 
archaeologist. In reference to Veii, at least, though he says 
he spent many days here, his observation must have been 
quite superficial, and his statements are often careless and 
inaccurate. 

From the Ponte Socio we ascended the stream to the Ponte 
Formello, at the upper extremity of the city ; and between 
these two bridges we discovered the remains of a third, 
which is neither mentioned in any of the books, nor marked 
on any of the maps. The masonry of one of the piers is 
very apparent, and blocks of pavement strew the bed of the 
stream. From near the Ponte Formello, we traced the 
ancient street, spoken of by G-ell and Dennis, through the 
entire length of the city, to the Piazza cV Armi. In its 
course, about midway between these two extremities, we found 
some massive substructions almost concealed amid briers and 
brushwood, which it was exceedingly difficult to penetrate. 
Nearly its whole extent is strewn with square blocks of tufo, 
fragments of polygonal pavement, pieces of marble and terra- 
cotta, and remains of walls cropping out at intervals along 
the bank. 



348 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

During this walk a great number of serpents darted across 
our path, and others lay sunning themselves upon the rocks. 
One of these was a very formidable creature, not less than 
eight feet long, and of proportionate thickness. I saw also 
several vipers, one of which I dispatched with my staif. 
They lay in every case near their holes, which they sought 
immediately on being disturbed. These venomous little rep- 
tiles abound on the Roman Campagna, and especially amid 
the ancient ruins. We often met with that beautiful crea- 
ture, which the Italians call "II Ragone" — a bright green 
lizard, about a foot long, of very graceful form, and perfectly 
harmless, which glides through the grass, and feeds on the 
insects which it finds. Lizards of a smaller species are seen 
everywhere by thousands, here, and all over Italy. 

The Piazza d'Armi is a table-land, eight or ten acres 
broad, separated from the main area of the city by a narrow 
valley, which is not very deep ; enclosed on its three other 
sides by bolder cliffs and deeper gulfs than in any other part 
of the ground ; and situated in the angle of the two streams 
that encompass the city, just above where they flow together. 
If this was not the arx, it certainly ought to have been ; for 
it is a far more eligible locality than the rock of Isola, or any 
other elevation in the vicinity ; though I am not unwilling, 
if it be deemed necessary, that Veil should have had two 
citadels — one here, and another at Isola. 

Within the arx, wherever it was, stood the temple of the 
great Veian goddess. Dennis sought diligently, but could 
find no traces of such an edifice here, for the very best of 
reasons — the remains were all below the surface. My young 
friend and I were more fortunate. At the very point where 
the arx must have connected with the city, we came upon 
recent excavations, apparently of last summer; and there 
we saw a white marble sarcophagus, as perfect, with the 
exception of the cover, as when it 'was made ; large slabs 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 349 

and fragments of the same material, white and colored; 
pieces of columns and cornices, and walls more massive than 
any we had found before. The marbles may have belonged 
to the later Roman Mmiicipium; but these walls were most 
indubitably remains of the earlier Etruscan Veii ; and I am 
sure, if Mr. Dennis had seen them, he would have said at 
once, " Here stood the Temple of Juno." They have been 
uncovered in half a dozen different places, but the excava- 
tions are not sufficient to show the plan of the building. I 
have no doubt, however, from what was visible, that if the 
examination were continued, the walls would be found very 
extensive. In some places they are built of large oblong- 
blocks of tufo, four feet in length and two in thickness, and 
fitted together without cement. The blocks are laid with 
perfect regularity, those of one tier across those of another, 
so that the surface exhibits the sides and the ends in alter- 
nate layers. These walls seem constructed for eternity. The 
chariot-wheels of thirty centuries have rolled over them, 
grinding their upper portions into dust, and forming a soil 
of many feet above them • but the solid masses beneath 
remain unmoved, just as they were laid by the builders. 
Such work can perish only by the slow process of abrasion, 
and the mouldering of its very material. 

I stood upon the verge of this lofty promontory*, and 
" from the top of the rock" looked down into the glens on either 
hand, through which, far beneath me, wound the two 
streams that nearly encompassed the ancient city, and the 
broader valley below, through which their united waters 
pursued their way to the Tiber. All was still and desolate 
as death ; not a dwelling in sight, except a shepherd's hut 
in the distance ; not a sound to be heard, except the bleating 
of the sheep, and the baying of their shaggy keeper. How 
different the scene, when from the same height Camillus 
gazed upon the wild tumult of the battle, and listened to 



350 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the shouts of the victors and the shrieks of the vanquished, 
and saw the flames ascending from the burning city, the 
women and children flying across the distant hills, his brave 
soldiers pressing in through every opening, and the Fossi 
at his feet rolling red with the blood of the slain ! No 
wonder the conqueror wept ! 

Dennis speaks of a " curious staircase," discovered in 
1840, by the washing away of the earth in the top of the 
bank, beneath the city wall, just opposite the Piazzid'Armi. 
We made long and laborious search for this interesting 
object, going up and down the little valley, and climbing 
the rock at every accessible point. At length, we ascended 
to the top ; and as we walked along the brink, looking down 
among the thick bushes and brambles, I saw what I thought 
to be a piece of hewn stone projecting from the bank about 
ten feet beneath me. Taking hold of a little tree, I swung 
down, and at once found myself standing upon La Scaletta. 
It was a happy accident. The philosopher, when he leaped 
naked from his bath, and ran shouting his discovery through 
the city, scarcely felt a greater joy. Dennis says that he 
saw the object of our quest from the valley, and clambered 
up to it with great difficulty. I can easily believe the latter 
statement, but the former is not quite so credible. He 
counted only eight steps ; but four others must have been 
uncovered since, for there are now twelve to be seen. I 
worked my way through the briers, and walked down them, 
and up again. There must have been originally not less 
than eighty or a hundred, but the lower ones have fallen, 
and lie in ruins at the bottom. The object of these stairs is 
not apparent, though it is conjectured that they led to a 
postern gate from the Via Veientana in the valley. 

But the most interesting thing to be seen at Veiiis the 
famous Painted Tomb. We found that a new key had been 
made, and the passage cleared of its rubbish, and half a 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 351 

scudo procured our admittance into this mansion of the 
dead. It is called La Grotta Campana, in honor of its 
excavator and proprietor, the Cavaliere Campana, of Rome. 
It was discovered only fourteen years ago, and has been pre- 
served as it was found, with all its decorations and its furni- 
ture, except that the ancient stone door, which had been 
demolished, is replaced by a modern one of iron. 

The tomb consists of two rooms, hewn out of the rock. 
The first may be fifteen feet square. In a wall opposite the 
entrance is a doorway, communicating with the inner cham- 
ber. The paintings are on this wall, each side of the door- 
way. They are of a rude and grotesque character, indicat- 
ing a very early stage of the art. They consist of a variety 
of animals, with several men and two boys on horseback, 
with flowers interspersed, and an ornamental border. The 
form and color of the animals are very strange and curious. 
There is a sphinx, not crouching, as in Egyptian sculpture, 
but standing, and that on legs of most disproportionate 
length. It has wings, too, which are curled at the tips, and 
striped with red, black, and yellow ; sti'aight black hair, 
hanging down behind the head ; red face and bosom, with 
white spots ; yellow body and tail, which are also spotted ; 
two legs red, one black, and another yellow. Behind the 
sphinx is a rampant panther, and beneath him an ass or a 
deer, both particolored like the sphinx. 

Under this group is a horse still taller than his hybrid 
neighbor, and looking as if he needed provender. His 
head is well proportioned, and his neck handsomely arched, 
his breast and hind-quarters large, but his body exceedingly 
slender. He has a black head, red neck and body, yellow 
mane and tail, haunches black, one leg black, another red, 
and the other two yellow, with red spots. He is led by a 
red groom, who is naked ; and ridden by a naked red boy, 
with a cat crouching behind him, one paw familiarly placed 



352 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

upon his shoulder. The cat is particolored like the horse, 
and there is a particolored dog running by his side, and 
a man with something like a battle-axe marching before 
him. 

On the other side of the doorway is a large beast — per- 
haps a tiger — with his mouth open, and his tongue hanging 
out, and a couple of dogs beneath him ; and above this, a 
horse, with a boy upon his back, and a spotted pard behind 
him sitting on the ground. All these animals are party- 
colored and spotted, like those before described. Around 
each group or square is an ornamental border of lotus-flowers, 
and various flowers and plants are interspersed among' the 
figures. All this must have some symbolical meaning; but 
what that meaning is it needs a Daniel to tell — at least a 
Rawlinson or a Grliddon. 

On either side of the chamber is a projecting bench of 
rock, with one end a little elevated, resembling a couch with 
its pillow. On each of these, when the tomb was first, 
opened, was found a human skeleton; but as soon as they 
were exposed to the air, they crumbled to dust. The one 
on the right seems to have been a warrior, slain in battle ; 
and we saw the helmet which was upon the head, pierced 
through by some sharp weapon, and a broken spear by its 
side, with a bronze lamp and a candlestick. No armor was 
found with the skeleton occupying the opposite bench; and 
it is likely that this was the wife of the warrior. On the 
floor sit four large earthen jai'S, three feet high ; and several 
smaller ones, of different form ; all of which are ornamented 
with paintings or bas reliefs, in the earliest style of Etruscan 
art ; and which, when the tomb was discovered, contained 
what was supposed to be human ashes. 

The ceiling of the inner chamber has two beams, carved_ 
in relief, extending from wall to wall. On three sides are 
benches of rock, each sustaining a square chest of earthen- 



OLD ETRUSCAN VEIL 353 

ware, about eighteen inches long and a foot high, with an 
arched lid projecting over the sides like the roof of a house, 
and the figure of a human head carved upon the top, and 
eight tall jars, some of which are painted with red and 
yellow bands, and two stand in pans of terra-cotta, with 
animals executed in relief around the rim. There are many 
smaller jars or vases sitting upon the ground, probably all 
of a cinerary character. In the centre of the apartment 
stands a bronze brazier, with three feet, about six inches 
high, and twenty broad, which may have served for burning 
perfumes to destroy the effluvium of the sepulchre. On the 
back wall we saw six circular figures, painted in various 
colors. Our cicerone called them crowns, and perhaps this 
is what they are intended to represent. If so, the skeletons 
found here may be those of royal personages — perhaps some 
king and queen, who reigned in Veil before Romulus was 
born, or ZEneas touched the Italian shore. But who or what 
the occupants were, when they lived or how they died, there 
is no record to inform us; no clue to their character or 
station, except what may be gathered from the furniture and 
artistic decorations of the place. Upon the wall, on two 
sides of the room, are many stumps of nails, which have 
rusted away, on which perhaps shields were hung, or some- 
thing more precious, which the hand of the spoiler removed 
centuries ago. Bronze mirrors, animals wrought in amber, 
and terra-cotta images of men and gods, were also found 
here ; but they have been taken away, and placed in the pro- 
prietor's collection of Etruscan antiquities at Rome. 

At the entrance of the tomb, opening upon the same pass- 
age, is a side-chamber — a sort of porter's lodge to this palace 
of the mighty dead. On one side of it is a couch of rock, 
with rudely carved legs ; but the form that lay upon it in its 
last sleep has long since disappeared; and nothing remains 



854 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

but the furniture — a plate or two, a drinking-cup, a bronze 
mirror, perfume vases, and scattered fragments of pottery. 

As we were leaving Isola, on our return to Rome, the 
villagers offered us several articles for sale, which had been 
taken from the tombs of Veii — vases, ewers, and lamps of 
terra-cotta, and human figures of the same material. One 
fellow proffered us an earthen goddess, about as large as a 
man's finger, for which he demanded one scudo ; we pro- 
posed to give him two pauls, whereupon he shook his head, 
kissed the figure, and pressed it to his heart with great affec- 
tion. At the same time we were closely besieged by some 
seven or eight ragged boys and dirty girls, imploring us for 
the love of the Blessed Virgin to endow them with a few 
baiocchi. Seeing there was more begging than bargaining, ' 
we drove unceremoniously away ; and in a few moments 
were flying along the beautiful Via Cassia, toward the tomb 
of the Eternal City, whose strategy triumphed over the valor 
of Veii. 



TRIP TO TIVOLI. 355 



CHAPTEK XXVII. 

TRIP TO TIVOLI. 

BASILICA OP SAN LORENZO WAYSIDE GLIMPSES THE SOLFATARA 

TOMB OP PLAUTIUS VILLA OF ADRIAN ANCIENT TIBUR MODERN 

TIVOLI TEMPLES OF VESTA AND THE SYBIL ROMAN VILLAS PLEA- 
SANT PROSPECTS — AN ITALIAN TEMPEST B.ETURN TO ROME. 



But him, the streams which warbling flow 

Rich Tibur's fertile vales along, 
And shady groves, his haunts, shall know 

The master of th' Eolian song. 

Having previously arranged with our friends Mr. and 
Mrs. Johnson to accompany us in the excursion, early on the 
morning of the thirteenth of May we set forth for Tivoli. 
The distance is about eighteen English miles, and the ride 
at this delightful season of the year is full of pleasure. Most 
of the foreigners who were here, journeyed northward several 
weeks before, leaving Rome just as its rural environs began 
to put on their vernal beauty. Those who would see this 
interesting region in the perfection of its charms, should by 
all means remain till the middle of May, when the campagna 
is covered with wild flowers in endless variety, blooming 
amid the ruins of antiquity, and all the air is vocal with the 
songs of the skylark and the nightingale. 

We left the city at the Porte San Lorenzo, named from 



.' 



356 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the Basilica of San Lorenzo about a mile beyond. There 
are within the walls two or three other churches of San 
Lorenzo, but this is more ancient than any of them. There 
is a monastery in connection with it, also a public cemetery 
close by, and the descent into the Catacombs of Santa 
Oiriaca, where the body of San Lorenzo is reported to have 
been first interred. 

About two miles farther on, and three miles from the gate, 
we crossed the Anio or Teverone on the Ponte Mamolo — so 
called because it was built by Mamea, the mother of Alex- 
ander Severus. The country thence to the Sabine Mountains 
is a continued succession of luxuriant pastures and wheat 
fields. Here and there upon the heights appeared ranges 
of trees, enclosing farms and villas; and occasionally some 
massive square tower of the middle ages rose in solitary 
grandeur amid the plain. Twelve miles from Rome we saw 
(Jastel Arcione, a picturesque ruin, on the brow of a green 
hill, overlooking the road, where it has stood more than four 
centuries in its present dismantled condition, having been 
demolished by the Tivolians to dislodge a body of brigands 
who had made it their stronghold. Near this, in two or 
three places, we struck upon the old polygonal pavement of 
the Via Tiburtina, the general course of which is followed 
by the modern road all the way to Tivoli. 

Among the most interesting objects in our route were the 
Lago de' Tartari and the waters of the Solfatara. The 
former being close to our road, we alighted and walked along 
its margin. It is a small body of water, depositing a cal- 
careous substance upon every thing that grows around it, en- 
closing reeds and bushes with a solid incrustation of stone, 
and thus by its own action continually contracting its limits. 
La Solfatara, the ancient Aquce Albulai, consists of three 
small lakes, of similar nature, but more strongly impregnated 
with sulphur. A bituminous substance is constantly rising 



TRIP TO TIVOLI. 857 

from the bottom, collecting in masses upon the surface, and 
forming little floating islands, which are driven by the wind 
against the shore, where they adhere and harden. Thus, 
like the Lago de' Tartari, the Solfatara is constantly di- 
minishing, and will probably in process of time be entirely 
covered over. It was formerly much larger than now, and 
sometimes overflowed, producing malaria. To prevent this 
inconvenience, Cardinal d'Este cut a canal, two miles long 
and nine feet wide, through which a milky torrent rushes 
down to the Anio. These waters were in high repute among 
the ancients for their sanitary virtues, and much frequented 
on account of the oracle of Faunus, whose temple stood in a 
sacred grove upon the shore. Virgil represents Latinus as 
coming hither to consult the god, and receiving during the 
night a mysterious answer. But the oracle is forgotten, the 
sacred grove is uprooted, and the very site of the temple is 
unknown. There are still some remains, however, of the 
baths built by Agrippa, frequented by Augustus, and en- 
larged and beautified by Zenobia. Throughout the whole 
neighborhood there is a strong smell of sulphuretted hydro- 
gen gas, which is far from being pleasant to delicate olfac- 
tories. The surface of the surrounding fields is an incrusta- 
tion gradually formed over the water, and the hollow sound 
which it yields to the tread evidently betrays the existence 
of an abyss beneath. 

A mile or two nearer Tivoli we recrossed the Anio on the 
Ponte Lugano. This bridge is said to have taken its name 
from the Lucanians, who were here defeated by the Romans : 
more probably, however, from the tomb of Plautius Lucanus, 
which stands just at its eastern end. This is a large round 
tower, built of huge blocks of travertine, and resembling the 
sepulchre of Cecilia Metella, both in its original form and in 
its subsequent appropriation. During the middle ages it was 
used as a military station, and for this purpose surmounted 



358 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

by a battlement; a circumstance barbarous in point of taste, 
but in these particular instances not to be regretted, as it 
preserved two fine monuments of antiquity from destruction. 
Near this bridge are seen the extensive quarries whence the 
ancient Romans obtained the stone called travertine — more 
properly tibertine — which they employed so much in build- 
ing. 

From this point the road begins to ascend the mountain, 
passing the ruins of the magnificent Villa Adriana, which 
stood upo^the plain at its base. This villa, like every thing 
else planned by its imperial proprietor, was extremely grand 
and spacious, and exceeded every other villa in Italy. It 
was eight or ten miles in circumference; and comprised, 
beside the palace, three theatres, four temples, a naumachia, 
a hippodrome, barracks for soldiers, halls for philosophers, an 
ample library, a splendid museum, numerous porticoes and 
fountains, and various edifices the names and objects of which 
are now unknown. Excavations are constantly bringing to 
light statues, columns, and marbles of the rarest kinds ; 
while weeds and brambles cover the mounds and fill the stuc- 
coed halls ; and gardens, and vineyards, and olives, and 
laurels, and cypresses, wave over all in melancholy confusion. 

Hence, through a continuous grove of olive trees, we 
mounted the steep to Tivoli. Tivoli is the ancient Tibur — 
a place of great antiquity, and of some considerable import- 
ance in history. It appears to have been originally a city 
of the Sicani, and called Sicilio or Siculetum. The Siculi 
were in possession, when Tiburtus, or Tiburnus, commander 
of Evander's fleet, came and expelled them, and gave his own 
name to the city. Tibur is not mentioned in Pliny's list of 
the Latin Confederates, who were accustomed to meet at the 
temple of Jupiter Latialis on the Alban Mount. Perhaps, 
being superior in opulence or force, the Tiburtines slighted 
the alliance. They were not subjected by the Romans till 



TRIP TO TIVOLI. 359 

the time of Camillus and the fall of Veii ; a calamity which 
they would scarcely have escaped so long, had they not been 
a powerful people. This is further evident from the fact, 
that in the year three hundred and ninety-six before Christ, 
they ventured even an attack on Rome. They had several 
tributary towns, and a somewhat extensive territory. 

Tivoli now contains six or seven thousand inhabitants. It 
is not handsomely built, and its denizens resemble very 
much those of some other Italian towns of which I have 
written. Its situation, however, upon the side o£the Sabine 
Mountains, nearly a thousand feet above the sea, and com- 
manding a fine prospect of the Campagna, with the dome of 
Saint Peter's rising majestically in the distance, is as de- 
lightful as the most enthusiastic admirer of the beautiful 
could desire. But its great charm consists in its cascades, 
and the surrounding scenery. Over these my better-half, 
very properly, in her own sober way, went into poetic rap- 
tures. Therefore I shall attempt no description, prudently 
leaving the whole subject to her happier quill, and devoting 
mine to the antiquities of the place. 

Arriving at the piazza, we left our carriage, and hastened 
to the little circular temple upon the cliff, where we sat down 
to our collazione, beneath that graceful portico in whose 
shadow Augustus and Maecenas often reposed, and Virgil and 
Horace mingled the music of their lyres with the roar of the 
flood. This structure — sometimes called the temple of 
Vesta, and sometimes the temple of the Sybil — is already 
so well known through the tourist and the artist, as to 
need no additional description. It is admired, not for its 
dimensions, but for its fine proportions, and its romantic 
situation. It stands uncovered in the court of the inn, 
but its own solidity seems a sufficient protection. Of its 
eighteen pillars, ten only remain, with their entablature and 
cornice. Thirty or forty years ago, an English nobleman 



360 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

undertook to purchase it, with a design of transporting it to 
England, and placing it in his own park; but the Roman 
government interposed and prevented the devastation ; and 
I felt thankful to Pius the Seventh, when I saw it hanging 
there on the crest of the precipice, with 

" The rapid Anio, headlong in its course," 

fretting and foaming through the caverned rocks three hun- 
dred feet below. There it stands, a beautiful fragment of 
Augustan grandeur, dating from the very time when G-od 
laid in Mount Zion the " precious Corner-stone" of an im- 
perishable temple. It has survived the empire, the religion, 
and the very language of its founder; and after nearly nine- 
teen centuries of tempest and revolution have passed over itj 
still challenges the admiration of the traveller. 

Near this stands the fragment of another temple, consist- 
ing of four pillars, now forming part of the wall of a 
church ; and this, like the other, has been called both the 
Temple of Vesta and the Temple of the Sybil. These are 
almost the only vestiges of ancient Tibur. During the 
days of the empire, thirty or forty of the richest Romans 
had their superb villas here ; but these have all passed away, 
and no traces of them are found, except here and there a 
massive substruction of rectangular blocks, or a fragment 
or two of opus reticulatum, which it is impossible to iden- 
tify. Our cicerone pointed out to us the supposed sites of 
those of Varus and Catullus, across the ravine, opposite the 
town ; one of them now occupied by a church, and the 
other by a convent. Farther down the mountain, command- 
ing a broader view of the Campagna, with the town and the 
cascades of the Anio, is the locality assigned to that of 
Horace ; while that of Maecenas is said to have crowned a 
lofty precipice on the other side of the torrent, just where 
the sportive Cascatella now leaps from the brow of the rock. 



TRIP TO TIVOLI. 801 

Having finished our collation, we descended into the glen, 
and explored the caves of Neptune and the Sybil, and 
watched the water that poured down in three beautiful 
sheets apparently from the sky, and saw the rainbow com- 
passing with beauty the cloud of spray at the foot of the 
grand cascade. Then we ascended the opposite bank, pass- 
ing a lately excavated line of arches, which Stgnor Antonio 
— this of course was his name — informed us belonged to the 
baths of Vojriscus. There is little reliance to be placed 
upon these guides in matters of antiquity, but this time 
Antonio is very likely to have been right, for Vopiscus cer- 
tainly had a magnificent villa at Tibur, and Horace speaks 
of it as being located in the dell, and actually overhanging 
the stream. Above this we passed through the long, double 
gallery, cut through the mountain, to divert the current of 
the Anio from its ancient channel, at the lower end of 
which the torrent precipitates itself headlong into the gulf 
below. Our companions were now quite fatigued, and so 
Mrs. C. and myself left them behind, and continued our 
walk along the curving bank of the ravine upon our left, 
with the concave side of the olive-shaded mountain on our 
right, beguiled by the beauty of the dell, with its sparkling 
cascatelli, the- fragrance of flowers, and the warbling of 
birds, unmindful of time and distance, till a dark cloud sud- 
denly frowned over the brow of the mountain, and the 
heavy roll of thunder admonished us to return. 

It was vain to inquire now for the villas of other wealthy 
and famous Romans, which once adorned these delightful 
localities — those of Cocceius, Lepiclus, Plautus, Mesius, 
Celius, Brutus, Cassius, Piso, Capito, Sallust, Popilius, 
Flaccus, Atticus, Valerius Maximus, and many more, who 
resorted hither for fashion, or friendship, or rural quiet. 
All have disappeared and left nothing but their names 
behind, with the unalterable charms of nature, its shady 
16 



362 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

glens and gleaming waters, its groves, and gardens, and 
orchards, and cool recesses, which still flourish and blossom 
in unfading beauty. As I stood and gazed upon the grand 
cascade above, and the two smaller ones below, from a point in 
the road where all were in full view before me — as I saw the 
waters leap laughing down the declivity, through thickets 
and brambles, here spangled with diamonds, and there lighted 
up with rainbows — the blooming vines that hung over the 
channel, or bathed in its current — the river below, fretting 
through the rocky arch which it has excavated for itself — 
the gray foliage of the olive-orchards, and the graceful 
sweep of the surrounding hills — I was almost ready to join 
the bard in the prayer — 

" May Tibur to my latest hours 
Afford a kind and calm retreat ; 
Tibur, beneath whose lofty towers 
The Grecians fixed their blissful seat ; 
There may my labors end, my wanderings cease, 
There all my toils of warfare rest in peace!" 

But a sudden peal of thunder broke my meditations, and 
hastened our tardy footsteps. The shower overtook us on 
the road, however ; and we sought a temporary shelter, with 
four very unpoetic-looking Italians, and ten thousand fleas, 
in an ancient grotto, containing a pretty fountain, which 
may have belonged to the villa of Catullus, but seemed now 
to have become the common resort of cattle and swine. 
The rain abated in about fifteen minutes, and we hastened 
our return, through no small depth of mud and water, to 
our companions and the carriage. But now the storm 
began in earnest, the wind blew a tempest, and the rain fell 
in torrents, with peals of thunder that shook the mountains 
around us, and flashes of lightning which seemed to set the 
rocks on fire. An hour or more, " the prince of the power 
of the air" raged over us in his wrath ; and then gathered 



TRIP TO TIVOLI. 363 

up his cloudy robes, and marched muttering over the hills, 
leaving the bluest of skies and the brightest of landscapes 
behind him; and we, with impressions of the grand and the 
beautiful never to be forgotten, mounted our carriage, and 
rode through a fairy-world, sparkling with diamonds, and 
musical with the song of rivulets, down the Sabine slopes, 
and over the wide Campagna, till the towers and domes of 
the Eternal City rose before us, as if painted upon the gor- 
geous clouds that half-veiled the setting sun. 



>64 A YEAR IN EUROPE, 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE ALBAN MOUNT. 

STRADA FERRATA TO FRASCATI ANTONIO VILLA RUFINELLA— -TUSCU- 

LUM CICERO'S VILLA THE ALBAN LAKE ALBA LONGA EMISARIO 

RUINS OF ROMAN VILLAS CASTEL GONDOLPHO LA RICCIA IL 

ROSIGNUOLO LANUVIUM A PRIEST AT PLAY NEMI FLOATING 

PALACE MONTE CAVO RETURN TO ROME. 

Twelve miles south of Rome, rises from the level Carn- 
pagua a picturesque group of volcanic hills. Its nearest 
and loftiest summit, Monte Cavo, the ancient Mons Albanus, 
or Mons Latialis, is about four thousand feet high, and 
crowned with a white convent, occupying the site of the 
Temple of Jupiter. The base of the whole group must be 
forty or fifty miles in circumference ; and the entire region 
abounds in scenic beauty not surpassed in Italy; and rocks, 
and groves, and glens, and streams, strewn with the memo- 
rials of antiquity, still echo the strains of Virgil and the 
voice of Cicero. 

I had admired the distant view from the dome of Saint 
Peter's, the Castle of St. Angelo, and a hundred other 
places within and around the city; and still more, when we 
passed over the western slopes of the mountain on our way 
to Naples ; and had longed to climb its sunny heights, and 
trace its sylvan ravines. And now the time was come, as 
fair a morning as ever smiled from heaven. As we passed 



THE ALBAN MOUNT. 365 

through the Porto Maggiore, the fresh breeze from, the Cam- 
pagna came burdened with the odor of blossoms and the 
anthem of birds. A vast extent of green fields spread out 
before us ; and beyond rose the romantic hills, in their en- 
chanting robes of blue and purple ; over which towered the 
remoter Apennines, with their pearly crests of snow; the 
whole reposing under a vault of the purest azure. 

My companions were the Rev. Mr. Hall and Mr. Bartho- 
lomew, the American sculptor. Our first stage was by 
Strada Ferrata to Frascati — twelve miles — the only piece 
of railway Rome can hitherto boast, though another is 
begun to Civita Vecchia. Half the distance we were over- 
shadowed by the towering arches of the aqueducts, which 
supplied the ancient city, 

"And increased 
Proud Tiber's waves with waters not his own." 

About three-quarters of an hour brought us to the termi- 
nus, and an omnibus conveyed us up the acclivity, through 
a scene of indescribable beauty, into the town. 

Frascati arose, in the thirteenth century, from the ruins 
of ancient Tusculum, which occupied an elevation two miles 
above. Its population is about five thousand; but during 
the summer it is always crowded with Romans and forestieri. 
Its situation, on the side of the mountain, is exceedingly 
fine ; but there is very little in the town itself worthy of 
special notice. Its chief attraction is its villas, of which 
there are eight or ten, some of them very extensive. The 
only one we visited belongs to the wealthy banker Torlonia ; 
the walks and fountains of which would be very pretty, if 
kept in good condition ; but it seems a pity that one man 
should possess so much as to be able to pay proper attention 
to none of it, especially where multitudes are perishing for 
lack of bread ! 



366 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Our first care, after a little refreshment, was to procure 
donkeys and a driver. I believe about half the men in 
Italy are called Antonio. We had an Antonio to light us 
down into the Catacombs, and an Antonio to lead us through 
the ghostly solitudes of Pompeii, and an Antonio to show us 
the antiquities of Amalfi and Ravello, and an Antonio to 
conduct us up the mountain stairway of Sant' Angelo, and 
an Antonio to introduce us to the grottoes and cascades of 
Tivoli, and Murray promised us an Antonio to open for us 
the Etruscan tomb of Veii; and now another Antonio — a 
mere skeleton covered with an olive skin, with eyes as big 
as tea-saucers, proffers his services in capacity of donkey-teer, 
to accompany us in our rambles over the Alban Mount. 
This olive-colored skeleton Antonio proved a very amusing 
character; and, in the sequel, something of a humbug 
withal. He was the very same fellow, if I mistake not, who 
drove Grace Greenwood's beast to Tusculum, and showed 
Fanny Kemble Butler the path to Mons Algidus, and pro- 
fessed so intimate an acquaintance with the brigand Gaspe- 
roni. He could speak several languages, and all in the same 
breath; beginning a sentence in Italian, continuing it in 
French, and finishing in English. When we expressed our 
stirprise at the copiousness of his learning, he laughed 
vociferously, and informed us that he could speak German 
and Russian also, and " leetle Greek and Hebrew I" If 
Cicero was mentioned, Cicero was a " great schoolmaster," 
but never knew half so many languages as Antonio ! If 
Hannibal was referred to, Hannibal was a brave general; 
but Antonio would prove himself a braver, only give him an 
opportunity ! If Julius Caesar was spoken of,. Julius Cassar 
ascended to the Temple of Jupiter Latialis on this same 
Via Triumphalis ; but Antonio had travelled it a hundred 
times, where Julius Csesar had travelled it but once ! In 
short, this Antonio, believe him, was the greatest man, 



THE ALBAN MOUNT. 367 

except the Americans; that had ever yet trodden the Alban 
Mount ! 

Just above Frascati we passed the ruins of a large circular 
tomb, called, I know not on what authority, the Tomb of 
Lucullus. A little farther up we came to the Villa Rujji- 
uella, once the residence of Lucian Bonaparte, and famous 
for an audacious attempt of the banditti to seize and carry 
off his daughter on the eve of her marriage. They entered 
while the family were at dinner, but succeeded in getting pos- 
session only of the secretary and two domestics, whom they 
bore away into the Volscian Mountains, and demanded of the 
prince six thousand scudi for their ransom. 

Still ascending, through an avenue shaded with laurel and 
ilex, we soon reached the brow of the hill, covered with the 
ruins of Tusculum, the birthplace of Cato, and the favorite 
residence of Cicero, at present tenanted by a respectable 
population of lizards, and we chased the lithe ragone Italiano 
along the walks of Tully. There were the remains of a 
theatre and an amphitheatre, part of the ancient wall 
of the city, the evident substructions of the citadel, the 
polygonal pavement of the street, fragments of a temple or 
two, and traces of a fine villa, with baths and cisterns. 

An extensive ruin was pointed out by our big-eyed An- 
tonio — who professed to be as great an archasologist as philo- 
logist — for the remains of Cicero's Villa. With due respect 
to Antonio, however, permit me to say that this matter is 
somewhat dubious. Some fix the site here, others at the 
Villa Ruffinella, and others again at the Grrotta Ferrata, 
nearly two miles distant; and bricks with the orator's name 
upon them, and other materials which appear to have 
belonged to his buildings, have been fouud in all these locali- 
ties. If this was the place, he certainly had a delightful 
situation, and enjoyed as noble a view as any Roman could 
desire : Mons Latialis before him, crowned with the snowy 



368 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

fane of the tutelary divinity of the empire; the beautiful 
plain of Latium, extending from its base to the sea; and the 
scene of his own glorious labors, the metropolis of the 
world. 

Cicero had many villas, remarkable for their grandeur and 
magnificence ; and this, probably, surpassed them all. It 
was his favorite country-seat, and he had both the taste and 
the means for making it all that was desirable. Moreover, it 
had belonged to Crassus, the richest of the Romans; and 
afterward to Sylla the Dictator, who was not inclined to spare 
any pains or expense in its embellishment ; and had been 
purchased at an enormous price by the orator, and enlarged, 
and furnished with additional ornaments. It had a lyceum, 
a portico, a palestra, a library, a gymnasium, and an acade- 
my, all adorned with numerous statues and paintings, and 
surrounded by shady groves and avenues. Its proximity to 
Rome enabled its proprietor to enjoy the leisure and the 
liberty of solitude, without removing too far -from the city; 
and here he wrote two at least of his immortal treatises, and 
communed freely with his learned friends. 

From Tusculum we proceeded, by Grotta Ferrata and 
Marino, to the Alban Lake. The distance is six miles, and 
the scenery is. everywhere " even as the garden of Eden." 
Only a single incident broke the monotony of enjoyment, to 
wit, the falling of my donkey over a heap of ruins, which 
came near making a ruin of his rider. I declined mounting 
him again, but walked with a wounded limb, till we reached 
the lofty ridge whence the ancient Alba Longa looked down 
into the broad basin at its feet. Here we dismissed the 
learned Antonio and his long-eared companions, who returned 
to Frascati, leaving us at leisure to explore this interesting 
locality, and pursue our pleasant pilgrimage on foot. If the 
scenery hitherto was delightful, this was more than magical. 
Imagine a deep circular hollow, seven miles in circumfer- 



THE ALBAN MOUNT. 369 

ence, high up on the side of the mountain • and this hollow 
half-filled with the purest water, and surrounded with lofty 
and precipitous banks, covered with trees of perpetual ver- 
dure ; from which one sees at a glance the whole extent of 
the Roman Campagna, bounded by the Mediterranean on the 
west, with the Eternal City in the centre. On one side, 
overlooking the lake, and enjoying a boundless prospect, 
stands Castel Gondolfo, the summer residence of the pope. 
On the opposite side, at the foot of Monte Cavo, overhang- 
ing the water at the height of six hundred feet, is Palazzuola, 
a Franciscan monastery, having some interesting antiquities 
in its garden. 

This beautiful basin is evidently the bed of an ancient 
crater ; for the rocky strata of' its rim, upheaved by subter- 
ranean forces, lie shelving out on all sides. The water is of 
great depth at the centre, and as clear as crystal ; and so 
protected by the surrounding heights, that its surface is 
never ruffled by a breeze. The ridge, almost perpendicular 
on the inner side, and quite steep on the outer, is very nar- 
row at the summit, in some places barely wide enough for 
the road. Yet on this narrow ridge Alba Longa flourished 
before Rome was founded. The city must have consisted of 
a single street, and probably extended half-way round the 
lake. 

Alba Longa is known to us only in Roman story, dignified 
while it stood by its contests with the city of Romulus, and 
immortalized after it fell by Livy's eloquent description of 
its fate. It perished six hundred and fifty years before the 
Christian era, and by some modern sages its very existence 
has been treated as a fable. All tradition, however, attests 
the fact; and here, upon the white rocks, where Sir William 
Gell locates it, are evident indications of a very ancient city. 
We traced through bush and bramble, for a mile or more, 
the narrow street, in many places cut through the solid rock, 
10* 



370 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and deeply worn by the wheels of vehicles. There is a legend, 
relating that the royal residence stood on a lofty precipice 
overhanging the water; and when one of the kings pro- 
voked Jupiter by his wickedness, he smote it with his thun- 
derbolts, and it fell shattered into the lake below, carrying 
the impious monarch along with the ruins of his palace. And 
it is a remarkable fact, attested by tourists and topographers, 
that just at the foot of the highest and steepest portion of 
this rocky rampart, lies a huge mass, apparently rent from 
the summit, with large rectangular blocks, which manifestly 
once formed part of a building, and are much more ancient 
than any of the Roman remains in the neighborhood. 
According to Dionysius, Alba Longa was the mother of thirty 
Latin cities, among which he reckons Rome itself; and" 
Antemnae, Fidenge, Crustumerium, and several others along 
the Tiber, "are said, on tolerable traditional authority, to have 
been her earliest colonies. 

The waters of Lacus Albanus were anciently three hun- 
dred feet higher than they are at present. During the ten 
years' siege of Veii by the Romans, without rain, and proba- 
bly by volcanic agency, they suddenly rose to an unwonted 
height, threatening the devastation of the Campagna. A 
Veian prophet, taken prisoner by the Romans, told them of 
a current saying in Veii, received from the Etruscan Oracle, 
that the city would never be taken by an enemy till the 
waters of the Alban Lake forsook their ancient channel. 
The old man was brought before the Roman Senate, where 
he reaffirmed the statement. The Senate sent to consult the 
Delphic Oracle in Greece, which was good enough to con- 
firm the prophecy, with a little amplification by way of orna- 
ment. Now the Romans began to bore the side of the 
mountain, and in less than a year the rim of the basin was 
pierced quite through with a tunnel four feet wide and six 
feet high. Thus the lake was lowered without damage to 



THE ALBAN MOUNT. 371 

the Oampagna, and soon afterward, as the oracle had pro- 
mised, the Romans stood victors on the walls of Veii. 

This Umissario, as it is called, still remains; a monument, 
no less of Roman energy than of Roman superstition. It 
seems almost incredible that the work should have been 
accomplished in so short a time, and some have thought it 
must have occupied ten years instead of one. Think of a 
tunnel, more than a mile and a half in length, cut out of the 
solid rock with chisel and mallet ; yet so low and narrow, 
that, at the utmost, not more than three men could operate 
at the same time. There are several openings into it, how- 
ever, from the surface of the rock above ; so that the work- 
men probably descended through these, and began simul- 
taneously at different points along the designated line of 
excavation, thus greatly expediting the work. 

The emissary, being on a level with the lake, is about a 
thousand feet above the surface of the sea. The water flows 
through it with a gentle and uniform current, varying with 
the season from two to three feet in depth. Its entrance is 
just under the walls of Castel Gondolfo, almost concealed by 
trees and shrubbery, but quite accessible to him who is 
willing to pay the price by climbing the rugged steep after 
having explored it. There is so much sediment now 
upon the bottom of the passage, that it is difficult to pene- 
trate farther than about a hundred feet; but half this 
distance is sufficient to reveal the character of the work, 
which still displays the marks of the iron upon its walls and 
roof, as distinct as if they had been made but yesterday. 

Between the margin of the water and the base of the pre- 
cipice, quite round the lake, extends a narrow ring of level 
land, strewn with the remains of E.oman villas, overshadowed 
by venerable trees. These villas were probably constructed 
in the time of the emperors, long after the lake had been 
lowered by the emissary. The place is known, indeed, to 



872 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

have been then a fashionable summer resort of the Roman 
patricians; and so delightfully salubrious is the air around 
this romantic spot, that not only the pope, but also many 
citizens and sojourners at Rome, often make Castel Gondolfo 
their temporary abode during the season of oppressive heat. 

The palace of the Holy Father is a spacious building, 
without any external decoration, except its ancient groves of 
ilex, and its lofty Galleria di Sopra'. The latter is a beauti- 
fully shaded avenue along the summit of the ridge that 
encircles the lake, where the pope is accustomed to walk at 
eventide; but I am sure His Holiness never enjoyed the 
scenery more highly than we, nor relished more keenly the 
voice of the nightingale that welcomed us on our way. 

We spent the night at La Riccia, two miles beyond 
Castel G-oudolfo. This is the ancient Ariccia, where Horace 
lodged the first night on his journey to Brundusium ; but 
not at the house of old Martyrelli, I suspect ; for notwith- 
standing his white locks, he is manifestly a modern Roman, 
though one of the noblest of them all. By the way, the 
poet's donkey must have been a very poor one, or the poet 
himself but a dilatory pilgrim, not a Jacob, nor a Julius 
Caesar, to have travelled only fourteen miles during the first 
day. What a paradise is this Valariccia, with the Chigi 
Park, and the sylvan retreats around, once the haunts of 
Hippolytus and the nymph Egeria ! and the melancholy 
story of Hippolytus is told in gorgeous frescoes on the walls 
of our albergo. 

We walked out in the quiet moonlight, across the lofty 
bridge which connects the village with Albano. We were 
on the old Appian Way, with many a relic of antiquity 
on both sides, among which stood conspicuous the tomb of 
Etruscan Aruns, the son of King Porsenna. In the dewy 
vale beneath us chanted a thousand nightingales ; and after 
lingering beyond the limit of prudence to listen to their 



THE ALBAN MOUNT. 373 

pleasing strains, we returned to our hotel, threw open our 
upper windows, and laid our heads upon our pillows, to be 
lulled into dreams of Eden by soft melodies from the grove. 
In the morning, long before sunrise, the little minstrels were 
" tuning their mellow throats" again, and I was out listening 
to them upon the bridge. Two of them were answering 
each other from two contiguous hollies, in short snatches of 
ineffable sweetness. It seemed the epithalamium of wedded 
angels! Never in my life had I heard music which so 
deeply touched my heart ; and when Mr. B. came to summon 
me to breakfast, I sat bathed in tears. The Italians call 
this incarnation of melody il rosignuolo, and talk in raptures 
of its song. There is indeed an indescribable tenderness in 
it, unrivalled by that of any other bird. Our Southern 
forest minstrel has more variety, but less pathos, in its lay. 
Critics have not been able to agree whether its song is sad 
or gay. I shall not undertake to decide the question ; but 
accept, I pray thee, dear reader, with clue gratitude, the 
following sonnet of the late Richard Winter Hamilton, D. D., 
of Leeds : 

Mysterious Murmur ! Where, and what, art thou ? 

Song in the night ! Or art thou more than song ? 

Then more than feathered songster ! Here along 
The fragrant copse thou peal'st melodious tow, — 
Whether of grief or joy I cannot trow. 

A wail of anguish ! Who can doubt that strain? 

The thorn is in its breast ! And then again 
That long-drawn cadence out yon willow bough ! 
I list once more : It trills a joyous lay ! 

Thy pensive sadness now has found relief! 
Like canzonet of fiow'ret hooded fay ! 

Yet seemed those mirth-notes oft constrained and brief; 
For still, methooght, thy /oy was never gay, — 

Perhaps, like me, thou know'st the joy of grief! 



d<4 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Breakfast, two donkeys instead of three, a driver not less 
worthy of long ears than the poor quadrupeds that he 
cudgelled ; and we are away, through Gensano, past Monte 
Giovo, following the descent of a lofty ridge of ancient lava 
far down into the plain, where it terminates in a hold pro- 
montory, crowned with the miserable kennel called Lav inia, 
built from the worthier ruins of Lanuvium, and surrounded 
with massive fragments of masonry older than the founda- 
tions of Rome. As we approached a small acclivity near 
the gate, we saw a company of tweuty or thirty men, with 'a 
priest in his robes at their head, running down toward us, 
with loud cries and violent gesticulations. Mr. H.' was 
alarmed, Mr. B. was amused, and the scribe and the quadru- 
peds were miscellaneously affected. None of us knew the- 
cause of the excitement; and before we had time for conjec- 
ture, two large cheeses came rolling down among us, en- 
dangering the legs of donkeys and the necks of riders. We 
dexterously avoided a collision, and paused to observe the 
proceeding. The men were bowling at a mark, and the 
lucky wight who hit it oftenest in a given number of times, 
was entitled to the cheese. They seemed to enjoy the game 
with a special zest, and were so engrossed that they scarcely 
noticed the three forestieri, though we rode through the 
midst of them. 

I believe Lavinia is seldom visited by tourists, but I 
have found nothing in Italy more wonderful than these 
ancient walls. The Temple of Juno Sospita is still standing, 
and likely to stand till its very stones become dust, such is 
the admirable solidity of the structure. Connected with it 
is a wall extending along the hill-side, of which I measured 
some of the stones, and found the largest eleven feet long 
and five feet thick. Parallel with the wall, and running the 
whole distance, is the most perfect piece of old polygonal 
pavement I met with in the country. Lanuvium was one 



THE ALBAN MOUNT. 375 

of the confederate cities of Latium, memorable as tlie birth- 
place of Milo, of Murana, of Roscius the Comedian, and 
of the three Anton ini. 

After a stroll of two hours, we retraced our steps. With- 
out the gate, the men were still occupied with their arduous 
amusement, and the number had quadrupled, and the two 
cheeses had become seven, and the enthusiasm of the game 
had increased in the same proportion. We saw no one at 
work, for it was a festa day in honor of one of the saints ; 
yet the church appeared to be unoccupied, and few people 
were left in the town, for nearly the whole population had 
turned out to the cheese-bowling; and the parish priest — for 
such was the reverend ecclesiastic we had seen — was foremost 
in the race, and loudest in the laugh ! 

Hence to Lake Nemi, precisely like Lake Albano, only 
not half as large, and about two hundred feet higher. The 
Castle and town of Nemi adorn its eastern shore, standing on 
a lofty cliff which overhangs the water. Opposite sits Gen- 
sano on its wooded bank, with the Campagna and the sea- 
coast beyond. Toward the south rises Monte Artemisio, 
once adorned with the stately Temple of Diana; and at the 
base of the rock gushes forth the romantic fountain of 
Egeria. The woods remain on all sides, as when Ovid 

sang of 

" The sacred grove, 
The fields and meadows that the Muses love." 

The Roman emperors delighted in the scenery of this 
lake; and Trajan built a magnificent floating palace, and 
moored it in the centre. This singular edifice was more 
than five hundred feet long, nearly three hundred feet wide, 
and sixty feet high. It was constructed of the most durable 
timber, adorned within and without in the most costly 
manner, and supplied by means of pipes with abundance of 
the purest water from the Fountain of Egeria. The lake 



376 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

encircled it, like a wide moat around a Gothic castle ; and to 
prevent it from rising too high, a subterranean outlet was 
formed like that at Albano. In the sixteenth century, 
Marchi, a learned and ingenious Roman, descended in a 
diving machine to the bottom, where he found great quanti- 
ties of brass, and other metals, and made such explorations as 
enabled him to give a satisfactory description of this remark- 
able building. 

From Nenii we ascended Monte Cavo. After climbing 
two or three miles, we came to the Soldier's Lodge, on the 
ancient post-road to Naples. This institution has a curious 
history. A Neapolitan princess passing over the mountain 
was attacked by brigands, and narrowly escaped with her 
life. She immediately sent a number of soldiers hither to 
guard the pass; and when she died, left a sum of money to 
be applied in perpetuity to their support. The road has 
been abandoned for the last three centuries ; but the fund 
cannot be diverted from its original purpose, and a sergeant 
and six soldiers are kept here continually, guarding nothing 
but the rugged mountain-side, and the dreary chestnut 
forest. " Plow do you spend your time here ?" I asked one 
of them, as he lounged lazily in the sunshine. "We hunt a 
little/' he replied, " and play mora." " But have you no 
books to read 1" " yes, the lives of several saints, and 
three novels." "And have you no Bible ?" " We do not 
know that book ; we never saw it." " Does a priest never 
visit you ?" " very often, and confesses us too." " How 
long does he remain, when he comes ?" " Generally not 
long; but when we have plenty of wine, he stays all night, 
and we play many games at cards." 

As we continued to ascend, the sweet voice of the cuckoo 
rang out from the shady copse ; and on its clear liquid tones 
I floated back -to boyhood and to Somersetshire, where I had 
last heard it thirty-two years before ; and all the sorrows of 



THE ALBAN MOUNT. 377 

those thirty-two years were compensated by the pleasure of 
that single hour. Another effort, and we are on the 
summit; where all the Latin tribes, with the Romans at 
their head, of old assembled annually to offer their common 
sacrifice; and where the victorious generals, with their 
armies, were accustomed to repair after a triumph, and pre- 
sent their grateful acknowledgments to the tutelar deity of 
the nation. A- temple of so much importance must have 
been a costly and magnificent structure, and we are informed 
that Augustus appointed regular corps of troops to guard the 
place and protect the sacred treasures. Raised on so lofty a 
pedestal, this superb temple must have been a very imposing 
object, when seen from Rome, or from any part of the Cam- 
pagna. But not one stone of it now remains upon another ; 
except here and there a mass of hewn travertine, or a bit of 
polished marble, built into the clumsy walls of the ugly con- 
vent of the Passionists, which occupies the ground whereon 
it stood. The Via Triumphalis may still be tracecl in its 
winding course down the side of the mountain, with the 
letters " N. V." cut at short intervals in the imperishable 
pavement, trodden only by sandalled monks, and pretty 
peasant girls, and a few forestieri. Half-way down the 
steep stands the church of the Madonna del Tufa, where 
the Blessed Virgin, a long time ago, arrested a large mass of 
rock as it fell from the brow of the mountain, and prevented 
it from doing immense mischief to the villas and vineyards 
below; in gratitude for which deed of distinguished good- 
ness, one of the popes erected this temple to her honor. 

3Ions Latialis is in the .ZEneid what Mount Ida is in the 
Iliad, the commanding eminence whence the celestial powers 
watched the vicissitudes and fortunes of the war. Here sat 
" the Queen of heaven/' and 

" Surveyed the field, the Trojan powers, 
The Latian squadrons, and Laurentine towers." 



378 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

-And no situation could have been more favorable to the sur- 
vey. Here lies the scene of half the .iEneid, spread out like 
a map at your feet; the whole Rutulian territory, the land- 
ing-place of the Trojan fugitive, the seven hills where Evan- 
der reared his humble capital ; and the ancient Albula, " with 
a pleasant stream, whirling in rapid eddies, and yellow with 
much sand, rushing forward into the sea." On the other 
hand rise Monte Pila and the "Gelidus Algidus" of Horace; 
separated by a broad valley from Monte de' Fiori, and " the 
white rocks of Tusculum;" beyond which is seen the whole 
, Sabine range, with Tivoli, Monticelli, Palombara ; and still 
farther, the purple pyramid of Soracte, and the volcanic 
chain of Monte Cimino, like a wall of amethyst and jasper 
enclosing the glorious prospect. The Alban Lake seems so 
near, that one might almost drop a stone into its waters; 
and Neini, embosomed in a green circular valley, lies just 
beyond, " like a dew-drop in the hollow of a leaf;" and all 
around, upon every swell of the landscape, the white walls 
of convents and villages peep from their sylvan coverts — 
Albano, Gensano, Marino, La Eiccia, Palazzuola, Castel 
Gondolfo, Rocca di Papa, Grotta Ferrata, and many a nod- 
ding tower, and many a mouldering tomb. Which things 
having seen and surveyed, we descended from our classical 
Nebo, across the vast crater where Hannibal pitched his 
camp, along the sweet fields of Prince Aldobrandini which 
line the Via Latina, through orchards, and vineyards, and 
shady groves, and flowery avenues, where the viper lurks in 
the luxuriant grass, and the graceful ragone darts through 
the laurel hedge, and the brook that comes down from Tus- 
culurn murmurs a soft bass to the wild melody of the rosig- 
11 nolo that sino-s the sun to rest ! 



LA CHIESA DEL GESTJ. 379 



CHAPTEK XXIX. 

LA CHIESA DEL GESTJ. 

EXCURSION CHURCHES OF SANT' AGNESIA AND SANTA CONSTANTIA 

MONS SACER CATACOMBS OF SANT' ALESSANDRO TOMBS AND COLUM- 
BARIA CHURCH OF DOMINE QUO VADIS CATACOMBS OF SAN CALIS- 

TRO AND SAN SABASTIANO SEPULCHRE OF CECILIA METELLA 

MISCELLANEOUS PERAMBULATIONS LA CHIESA DEL GESU THE 

MUSIC THE SERMON THE COLLECTION — THE ILLUMINATION THE 

EFFECT— DISINTERESTED BENEVOLENCE REMARKS ON PREACHING 

RELEASE FROM PURGATORY ROME IS FINISHED. 

During the latter half of our sojourn in the Eternal City, 
we fortunately made the acquaintance of an excellent Ameri- 
can lady, long resident in Rome, who, with her gentlemanly 
son and amiahle daughter, showed us no little kindness, 
calling almost daily with her carriage to take us whitherso- 
ever we would, so that we saw more during the sweet month 
of May than we could otherwise have seen in a whole year. 

One of our most memorable excursions — memorable as 
well for the information we gained as for the pleasure we 
enjoyed — was through the Porta Pt'a, and along the Via 
JVbmentana. A mile beyond the wall stands the ancient 
church of Sant J Agnesia, founded by Constantine, and 
famous for the double row of marble pillars, one above the 
other, that supports the roof, and for the rich columns of 
porphyry and alabaster which adorn the altar and its taber- 



380 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

nacle. Near this edifice is the interesting church of Santa 
Constantia, the daughter of Constantine, formerly her mau- 
soleum, and probably at an earlier period a temple of Bacchus. 
It is of circular form, supported by a row of coupled columns, 
and crowned with a spacious dome. Behind the pillars runs 
a gallery, whose vaulted roof is encrusted with antique mo- 
saics, representing pretty little genii, playing with blushing 
clusters of grapes, amid the curling tendrils of the vine. 
The tomb of the fair saint was worthy of so splendid a place 
— a vast porphyry vase, ornamented with various figures, now 
shown to visitors in the museum of the Vatican. 

Two miles farther we crossed the Anio on the Ponte La- 
mentano, the ancient Pons Nomentanus ; and just beyond 
this, on the right, we saw the immortal Mons Sacer, twice 
dignified by the retreat and determinate but temperate re- 
sistance of an oppressed but generous people. It is a lonely 
eminence, of no great elevation, steep toward the river, in 
the form of a rampart, covered with luxuriant grass and bril- 
liant flowers, but without human ornament or memorial, and 
looking to me very much as Bunker Hill did to a young 
lady from the city of New York — "Nothing but a common 
country hill l" Yet few places about Borne, none perhaps, 
are more worthy of their distinction ; as few incidents, if any, 
in Roman history, are more honorable to the Boman people, 
than those which took place upon this same lions Sacer, 
where they displayed in so remarkable a manner the three 
grand principles which constituted the grandeur of the 
Boman character — firmness, moderation, and magnanimity. 

Half an hour more brings us to the Catacombs of Sani 1 
Alessandro, the most interesting of all these subterranean 
cemeteries of the early Christians, because very recently 
opened — since 1853 I believe — and its sacred deposits remain 
as they were found. Sant' Alessandro was a Christian bishop, 
beheaded in the reign of Hadrian; and here lies his dust be- 



LA CHIESA DEL G E S IT . 381 

neath an elegantly wrought altar of marble, whence for 
eighteen centuries, with the whole " noble army of martyrs," 
his voice has been heard in heaven, saying, " How long, 
Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our 
blood on them that dwell on the earth !" Near it is an in- 
scription to "Amnianctti, a martyr, in peace." Another 
record informed us that its subject was a stranger, arrested 
on his journey, led to the martyr's block, and laid here by 
his Roman brethren to await the resurrection of the just. 
Over one of these dark resting-places of the saints of Jesus, 
we read these touching words : " 0, unhappy times, when 
we cannot worship with safety even in caverns, nor enjoy 
the hope of being buried by our friends I" Furnished with 
wax-candles, we walked an hour or more through the sub- 
terranean galleries, narrow and crooked and dismal ; with 
three tiers of tombs on either side, some of them still un- 
sealed, and others open to the inspection of visitors ; in 
which we saw the bones of the blessed who passed "through 
great tribulation into the kingdom of heaven," with vials 
containing " the seed of the Church," and often the instru- 
ments of martyrdom. But it is not safe to penetrate far into 
these gloomy labyrinths, some of which are very extensive, 
and only partially explored ; and there is a fact on record, a 
sad warning to subsequent adventurers, of the loss of a large 
party in those of Saint' Calistro. Retracing our steps into 
the light of day, we lingered long about the beautiful altar, 
and walked to and fro over the elegant mosaic pavement, 
and observed many finely wrought columns of precious mar- 
ble, all of which belonged to a Christian church, built proba- 
bly in the time of Constantine, and uncovered within the 
last three or four years. A few weeks before we left Rome, 
poor old Father Pius, with his cardinals, and a long train of 
gorgeously attired ecclesiastics, burning wax-candles in the 
face of the sun, and chanting Latin invocations to the mar- 



382 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

tyrs all the way, went out, in apostolic state, to lay the 
foundation-stone of a church and convent of the Trappists 
on the same ground, lest a place so holy should be dese- 
crated by some profane or secular appropriation. 

Another day we took the Via Appia, as far as the Tomb 
of Cecilia Metella, pausing to inspect the many objects of 
interest by the way. We drove along the Strada di Cerchi, 
between the ruined arches of the Imperial Palace and the 
site of the Circus Maximus, across the Aqua Mar anna 
which comes down from the Vale of Egeria, through the 
Triumphal Arch of Drusus, the ancient Porta Capena, and 
the present Porta San Sabastiano. We trod the soil once 
occupied by the splendid Mausolea of the Scipios, long since 
demolished ; and descended into the Columbaria of "Caesar's" 
household," and took from one of the sacred urns a handful 
of human ashes. Originally the Roman dead were buried ; 
but afterward cremation was adopted as the common custom, 
though the great patrician families still adhered to the 
ancient method of interment. The bodies were wrapped in 
asbestos for burning ; this, being incombustible, preserved the 
ashes; which were subsequently deposited in urns, and 
placed in these sepulchral niches, hewn out of the solid rock, 
or prepared in walls and towers erected for the purpose. 

We passed also the spot where once stood the temple of 
Mars, at which the victorious army always paused as they 
entered the city; and a little farther on, we paused to look 
at the little church called " Domine Quo Vadis" — a strange 
name, with a stranger origin. The tradition is, that Peter 
was flying from Rome to escape persecution, when he here 
met his Master, and addressed to him the question — "Domine, 
quo vadis ?'-'— Lord, whither goest thou ? The Master as- 
sured his cowardly disciple that he was going to Rome to be 
crucified in his stead ; then vanishing, left the impress of 
his feet upon the pavement where he stood; and there are 



LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 383 

still his tracks in the eternal stone, and I have seen them 
with these same spectacles ! Wonder not, Christian 
reader, that Simon hastened back to the city, and desired to 
be crucified with his head downward ! 

We passed the Catacombs of San Calistro ; which, having 
no permit, we could not enter. Into those of San Sabas- 
tiano, however, we did descend, following a monk of most 
villainous physiognomy • but saw nothing, and wished our- 
selves above ground, and gladly embraced the first oppor- 
tunity of return to the upper world. But here is the 
proudest memorial of Republican Rome, the Mausoleum of 
Cecilia Metella, erected by the wealthy Crassus in honor of 
his wife, just before the Christian era. It is a magnificent 
circular tower, originally encased with white marble, seventy 
feet in diameter, and of proportionate elevation. Within is 
a chamber, which formerly contained a richly sculptured 
sarcophagus ; but in the time of Paul the Third, this was 
removed to the Farnesian Palace, where it is still to be seen. 
The roof, which must have been conical, has given place to 
unsightly battlements, which Murray says were built in the 
thirteenth century, when the tomb was converted into a 
fortress ; but the Marquis de Bonaparte, who saw it in the 
early part of the sixteenth century, assures us that it was at 
that time as perfect as in the days of Crassus: Such, indeed, 
is the admirable solidity of this fine structure, that, as a late 
writer observes, "it seems reared for eternity;" and but 
for human hands, it had probably been entire at the present 
day, and remained unmarred for centuries to come. A 
famous antiquary — Boissard — attributed to this edifice "a 
wonderful echo, which gave back seven or eight times, dis- 
tinctly and articulately, words spoken within a certain 
distance ; so that, at the funeral solemnities which Crassus 
celebrated in honor of his wife, the wailings of the mourners 
were infinitely multiplied ; as if the infernal gods, and all 



384 A YEAR IN EUROPE'. 

the souls that inhabit the shades below, had, in commisera- 
tion of the fate of the deceased Cecilia, bewailed her from 
beneath the earth with continued lamentations, and testified 
their desire to blend their common grief on her account with 
the tears of the living I" 

And then we wandered where Numa walked at eventide, 
through the sacred Vale of Egeria, and drank from her 
sacred fountain, and sat down in the cool shade of her sacred 
grove — at least, of its modern representative. And then 
we roamed over the Aventine, where Cacus lived, and Her- 
cules triumphed, and the twin brother of Romulus had his 
unpropitious augury; where shone the glorious fane of 
Diana, built by the joint contributions and in the joint 
names of all the Latin tribes ; and the temples of Juno and 
Dea Bona ; with many other stately edifices, of which not a 
vestige remains — not a mouldering arch, nor a shattered 
wall, nor a broken pillar, to indicate their locality. And 
there, just within the Aurelian Wall, was Monte Testaccio 
— a hill two or three hundred feet high, and not less than a 
mile in circumference, composed entirely of broken pottery, 
in the sides of which are excavated the immense wine-cel- 
lars of modern Rome. And near it rose the pyramid of 
Caius Cestius, in humble imitation of those of the Pharaohs 
— a hundred feet in diameter, and a hundred and fifty in 
altitude — looking down upon the Protestant Cemetery, and 
appearing to preside over those fields of silence and mor- 
tality. And not more than a hundred paces from its base 
sleeps the poet Keats, beneath that sad inscription — " Here 
lies one whose name was writ in water ;" and just under the 
wall, the genius and atheist Shelley, with a son of Coethe, 
and many English and American artists and tourists, who 
have lain down to their last sleep here in the land of 
strangers. It is a delightful place, laid out in handsome 
avenues, well shaded with cypress and the weeping-willow, 



LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 385 

and environed on all sides with natural beauties and the 
most impressive remembrancers of long-departed generations. 
An artist sat upon a tombstone sketching the scene, so 
absorbed that he did not notice us as we passed; and an 
English lady in black was wandering sadly about in quest 
of an inscription which might tell her where to drop a tear 
for one she had loved; but, though we joined her in the 
search, it was in vain, and she left "the mournful field" 
without having found the resting-place of her buried friend. 

Hence to the church, on the Via Ostiensis, built on the 
very ground where Paul was beheaded, and over the three 
fountains that gushed up where his head struck as it 
bounded down the hill; which three fountains are no fiction, 
Protestant reader, for I saw them myself, and drank of 
their water ! Back to the city, and down into the Mamer- 
tine and Tullian Prisons ; where the same Paul was incar- 
cerated, for there was the pillar to which he was bound; and 
Peter also, for there was the impression of the apostle's 
head, where the jailer savagely thrust him against the 
rock; and there was the spring of living water, which 
burst forth when the same savage jailer desired Christian 
baptism at the hands of the prisoner, and still keeps flowing 
— a perpetual miracle — ■ for the conviction of skeptical 
forestieri 1 

Our last day in Rome was a Sabbath. The chaplain to 
the American Legation was gone, and the chapel at the 
Braschi Palace was closed for the season. So, while Jinny 
read Saint Paul and Bossuet at home, I went to La Chiesa 
del Gesu to hear a sermon from a Jesuit. The privilege of 
that morning I would not have missed for half of all the 
other entertainments I enjoyed during my European tour. 
The sublime fooleries of Holy Week at St. Peter's — the 
pope in his jewelled vestments, tottering upon men's 
shoulders as they bore him in his lofty chair about the 
17 



388 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

church, displaying his bastard godhood, and blessing his 
abject worshippers — the magnificent array of the cardinals 
in their crimson robes, and the long train of priests and 
monks, foreign princes and legates, and numberless officials 
of lower degree, with forests of palm-branches and tons of 
wax-candles — the striped gorgeousness of the Swiss Guards 
with their plumes and pikes, and the bristling immensity of 
French bayonets, and the sound of a hundred brazen instru- 
ments, and the mighty roar of that unrivalled choir — these 
and all the rest were nothing in the comparison. 

The church is one of the largest and richest in Rome, for 
it is the principal church of the Jesuits, and connected with 
the convent which is the head-quarters of their order and 
the residence of their chief officer. With three American 
friends, I was at the door more than thirty minutes before 
the hour ; but it took us two-thirds of that time to effect 
an entrance, and find seats within hearing distance of the 
platform. There must have been sis or eight thousand peo- 
ple in the assembly ; yet this, I am informed, was only an 
ordinary occasion. There is preaching here every Sabbath, 
and the immense edifice is always thronged. At length we 
were comfortably seated, and in a few moments the organ 
began — the very finest in Rome, and played with admirable 
skill. Then came the soft tone of a single voice, sweet as an. 
angel's. Another followed, and then another, and another ; 
and the song rose by degrees, swelling into a majestic 
chorus, which filled the spacious edifice. The music I 
thought much superior to that of St. Peter's and the Sistine 
Chapel — better even than the performance of the far-famed 
Miserere. The harmony may have been less perfect — of 
that I am not a judge; but finer voices certainly I have 
never heard, and richer strains seemed to me impossible this 
side of paradise. But when the whole great concourse 
joined the song, it was " as the sound of many waters 



LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 387 

and mighty thunderings." Alas, it was a hymn to the 
saints ! 

The music ceased, and a tall man, of middle age, but 
somewhat, gray, in the dress of the order, ascended the plat- 
form, and took his seat. Ho announced his text sitting, 
then rose and commenced his discourse. Nothing could ex- 
ceed the ease and fluency of his utterance, but the grace 
and energy of his action. Though I understood but little 
of what he said, it was the best lesson in elocution I ever 
received. He was not boxed up in a pulpit, but stood upon 
an open stage, with nothing to hinder the freedom of his 
movements, or obstruct the view of his hearers. He had no 
notes, and needed none j the audience, the occasion, and the 
subject furnished sufficient inspiration. In five minutes all 
his powers seemed to be engaged, and for a full half houi 
he poured forth an incessant torrent of melodious words, 
with a force and fire such as I never saw except in some few 
of our American Methodist preachers, and with an ease and 
elegance of delivery which I never knew equalled by 
preacher of any order. From beginning to end, I believe, 
there was not a single sentence unaccompanied by a signifi- 
cant gesture, which evidently added greatly to the effect of 
his discourse, and which aided very much my shallow know- 
ledge of Italian in comprehending his meaning. Of course, 
I understood but little of the sermon ; but I caught here 
and there a sentence — enough to enable me to make out that 
the immaculate conception of " the mother of G-od," and 
her claims upon the adoration of all Christians, were the 
main topics of discourse ; and that all who disbelieved the 
one, or disregarded the other, were vigorously denounced, 
and adjudged to the depths of hell. 

When he had been speaking for about twenty-five minutes 
with a beauty which I thought could not be surpassed, he 
suddenly took fire and went off like a sky-rocket. I never 



388 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

heard such rapidity of utterance, connected with intonations 
and inflections so varied and melodious, and a manner alto- 
gether so inimitable. His fine person and noble counte- 
nance, his long black robe and flowing mantle, added to an 
action histrionic and striking to the last degree, would have 
formed an admirable study for an artist. The effect pro- 
duced was very great, and the people wept around me as I 
have often seen them weep at a camp-meeting. 

The tempest over, the preacher took his seat, wiped the 
dew of agony from his brow, drew out a package of papers, 
read two or three of them to the audience, talked about pass- 
ports from purgatory to paradise in connection with thirty 
scudi, and exhorted his hearers to charity toward the souls 
in limbo, while the collection-bags went round. There was 
evidently a large sum contributed toward that worthy object, 
for the bag which was shaken at me for some seconds, and 
which, I suppose, would hold a peck or more, appeared 
to be two-thirds full when it passed, and so heavy that the 
collector carried it with difficulty, and there were not less 
than six or eight of these bobbing about in different parts of 
the church. 

While this good work was going on, half-a-dozen men, 
with tapers attached to the end of long poles, were busy in 
lighting up the altar and the tribune. There was a perfect 
forest of wax-candles, some of them very large, and the illu- 
mination grew and brightened every moment. Then the 
preacher rose again, and resumed his discourse with a fervor 
even greater than before. Nothing could transcend the 
elegant energy of his elocution. He extended his arms 
aloft, and called upon the virgin and the martyrs. He folded 
them upon his heart, and bowed his head in the attitude of 
penitential shame. He smote his breast and his brow as if 
in agony. He wrapped his face in his mantle, and appeared 
to weep. He paced the platform with energy. Pie pointed 



LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 389 

now to the cross, now to the Madonna, and now to the lights 
which thicken about the altar. The moment the illumina- 
tion was complete — and there were five hundred wax-candles 
burning, for I counted them, and they were most artisti- 
cally arranged — he turned toward the splendid spectacle, 
stretched forth his hands and cried — "Ecco la ! ecco la !" 
Behold it ! behold . it ! Suddenly the immense multitude 
arose and fell upon their knees, with their faces toward the 
altar, while the preacher continued his exhortation in a strain 
of increasing fervor, and tears flowed freely from many an 
eye, and suppressed sobs and groans were audible on every 
side. 

The preacher paused, the organ began, the choir soon fol- 
lowed, and anon the audience took up the strain ; and for 
half an hour, choir and audience responded to each other, 
and I thought it the most delightful music I had ever heard. 
But the exquisite beauty of the performance, and the enthu- 
siastic heartiness with which the multitude participated, 
made me melancholy, when I reflected upon its connection 
with a system so dishonorable to Grod, so degrading to man, 
and so hostile to the spirit of true religion. 

A kind old lady near me, whose face was suffused with 
tears, besought me, for the love of the blessed Virgin, to 
kneel down. I was sorry, of course, to disoblige her, and at 
last she was evidently somewhat displeased with my obsti- 
nate resistance of her benevolent importunity. One of our 
party, an American lady, and a member of a Protestant 
Church at home, was so overcome by what she saw and 
heard, that she fell upon her knees with the rest, and con- 
tinued in that position for fifteen minutes or more ; never 
thinking, as she afterward told me, that she was worshipping 
any other than Grod himself. Mr. Mood and myself kept 
our seats, notwithstanding the fervid exhortations of the 
preacher, and his denunciations of persistent Protestantism, 



390 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

seconded by the disinterested efforts of my old female friend. 
Verily, I wonder not that young ladies in America, who are 
sent to convents for their education, so seldom pass through 
the process without conversion : there is so much in the 
ceremonies and superstitions of the Roman Catholic Church 
that is so attractive to the youthful fancy, and so impressive to 
the youthful imagination. Nay, I wonder, rather, that any 
should escape such a consummation. 

I heard six Roman Catholic sermons in Rome — one in St. 
Peter's, two in San Carlo's, and three in three other churches 
— two of them in the Italian language, one in French, one 
in Russian, one in German, and one in English. The last- 
mentionecl was by Doctor Manning, a late pervert from the. 
British Establishment, a man of superior learning and abili- 
ties, but a very indifferent preacher. His manner was cold 
and feeble j he recited his lesson like a schoolboy ; and 
never in my life did I hear a more miserable specimen of 
logic. The others — even he from the snows of Russia — dis- 
played considerable warmth, and in some cases delivered 
themselves with an ardor worthy of a better cause; and 
while listening to them, I could not help wishing that our 
Protestant preachers oftener carried with them in their work 
something of the same genial enthusiasm. Even in Amer- 
ica, and among the ministers of our own Church — the most 
earnest I believe in the world — the manner of the pulpit is 
generally too tame and cold, and some there are whose 
delivery is formal and frigid to the last degree of endurance. 
We should certainly speak more earnestly, if we felt as we 
ought the weight of our message and the responsibility of 
our vocation. The Papists preach falsehood as if they 
believed it to be truth, and were anxious to impress it as such 
upon their auditors ; we too often proclaim the everlasting 
verities of Heaven as if we had no faith in them ourselves, 
and cared but little what effect they produced upon others. 



LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 891 

It is true, other Roman Catholic performances are generally 
sufficiently dull and monotonous; but the preaching, espe- 
cially that of the monks and Jesuits, is in many instances 
fraught with a refreshing fervor and a most impressive 
energy. 

Suspended over the altar in this church is the largest 
known piece of lapis-lazuli in the world. But as we de- 
parted, I saw without something far more interesting than this. 
Pasted upon the wall, and reaching to a considerable height 
on each side of the door, were great numbers of printed 
papers, each about a foot square, with the representation of 
a skeleton in the centre. I had often seen these before, and 
supposed them to relate to the burial of the dead ; but upon 
examination, I now found that they were certificates of the 
release of souls from purgatory by masses said and paid for 
in this church. This helped to explain what I had just 
heard about the passports and thirty scucli. 

In the piazza fronting this church there is generally a strong 
breeze, which the Romans account for in a manner most 
complimentary to the Jesuits. They say that the wind was 
one day walking with the devil : when they came to this 
place the latter said to his companion, " I have something 
to do in here — wait for me a moment." The devil entered, 
but never came out; and the wind still waits for him in the 
square. 

At length we must bid adieu to Rome. We have remained 
already much longer than we intended. Four months have 
been well occupied, but I cannot say that I have yet seen 
Rome. Four years, indeed, were not sufficient for the pur- 
pose. Rome is inexhaustible. Hope of returning I have 
none; yet many of the most interesting objects and localities 
must remain unvisited, and others but partially explored and 
imperfectly understood. As it is, however, I depart deeply 
impressed with what I have beheld of the Historic City — 



392 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the remains of her ancient grandeur, the magnificence of her 
modern architecture, the wealth of her museums and gal- 
leries of art, the unrivalled beauty of her suburban villas 
and classical environs; but impressed still more with her 
weakness, her blindness, her imbecile policy, her sorceries 
and superstitions, her beggared populace and fast-declining 
power — constituting at once a manifest fulfilment of pro- 
phecy, and a tremendous prophecy yet to be fulfilled ! 

She is still "Majestic Rome," but her crown is in the 
dust, and the prestige of her victory is gone. The once proud 
" Mistress of the World" sits, a lone widow, in dotage and 
decrepitude, amid the ruins of her palace, asking alms of 
all who pass her gates. Her bishop is a recognized sove- 
reign, but his prerogatives cannot be hereditary; and foreign" 
bayonets guard his person, and prop his tottering throne. 
Claiming the right to rule the world, he can scarcely keep in 
subjection the few leagues of territory called the Papal 
States, and he sits trembling within the walls, of the Vatican, 
and under the very shadow of Sant' Angelo. The pretended 
head of the Church, and vicar of Jesus Christ, having the 
keys of the kingdom of heaven, he is not master of his own 
official acts, and is really less free than his own footman. 
The cardinals are princes, and generally they are men of learn- 
ing and ability ; but their talents are degraded to the most 
miserable time-serving devices, and all loftier aims are lost 
in the low craft of avarice and unworthy ambition. Rome 
claims to be " the holiest of cities," and " the capital of the 
Christian world;" but there is no city of Europe that has 
less of vital godliness, or even of true morality. Her 
modern churches rival her ancient temples ; but they are 
dedicated chiefly to saints and martyrs; and painted can- 
vas, and chiselled marble, and manufactured relics, are wor- 
shipped in them more than the living God; and the idolatry 
of which they are the daily scenes is not less gross than that 



LA CHIESA DEL GESU. 393 

which was practiced in pagan Rome. Five thousand priests 
and friars walk her streets; but scarcely one in a hundred of 
her people has any respect for their profession, or any confi- 
dence in their virtue. The mansions of her nobles are fit 
residences for monarchs; but their spacious apartments are 
peopled only with statues and pictures, and their masters 
live retired upon the pitiful revenue which they receive from 
strangers who come to visit their galleries. She has but one 
railroad, and that is only fourteen miles in length ; but one 
newspaper, and that is little more than a weekly announce- 
ment of the arrival and departure of foreigners. 

" How is the mighty fallen \" She that sat enthroned 
over the world, and regarded the earth as only a highway 
for her legions — she that trod upon the necks of kings, 
while nations fell prostrate in the dust before her — has 
become a beggar at the gates of foreign princes, and survives 
by swindling and plundering such as come to muse amid the 
wrecks of her former greatness. Her ecclesiastical thunders 
are unheeded, her political resources are exhausted, her 
exchequer is empty, and her prisons are full. Her streets 
swarm with mendicants, and murmur night and day with 
popular discontent ; though there are three thousand spies, 
in the pay of the government, going constantly about the 
city, unknown to the people, and generally even to one 
another; and there is one or more of them at this hour 
in every coffee-house, and in every place of trade or of public 
resort. 

Yet Rome is a city of strange and wondrous interest. It 
grows upon you in proportion as it is explored, and the 
longer you remain, the more reluctant you are to leave. 
I have groped among the mouldering substructions of her 
temples and theatres, and looked down from many a height 
upon the fading memorials of her ancient opulence and 
power. I have wandered at sunset along the banks of the 
17* 



894 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Albula, and reclined at noonday in the bowers of suburban 
villas, communing with the spirit of the past ; and imbibing 
full draughts of beauty through every sense. After all, the 
landscape scenery of Italy is to me its greatest charm ; and 
the sylvan environs of the Historic City never cloy, like the 
works of art with which her churches and saloons are 
crowded ; for nature is always fresh, and her aspects are ever 
varying, and even the same view often presents new beauties 
to the eye ; and where every spot has a classical renown ; and 
every object speaks of the greatest empire that ever rose and 
ruled and fell, there is a perpetual feast of solemn thought, 
with perennial springs of wisdom ! 



FROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 395 



CHAPTER XXX. 

PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 

LAST VIEW OF ST. PETER'S MONTE SORACTE — CIVITA CASTELLANA 

CAMILLUS AND THE SCHOOLMASTER THE UMBRIAN HILLS OCRI- 

COLI NARNI TERNI AND ITS FALLS SHORT METHOD WITH BEGGARS 

SPOLETTO THE CLITUMNUS FOLIGNO SPELLO SANTA MARIA 

DEGLI ANGELI ASSISI SAINT FRANCIS AND HIS ORDER — GROTTA 

DEI VOLUMNI THE ETRUSCANS PERUGIA BATTLE OF THRASYME- 

NUS THE PAPAL FRONTIER BRIGANDS. 



Now bind the sandals on the pilgrim's feet, 

And bring his staff; for lo! the meek-eyed morn 

Smiles o'er the Sabine Hills with sweetest grace! 

To thee, old Rome, the tribute of a tear; 

For never more the pilgrim shall behold 

Thy. venerable ruins, ivy-clad, 

And eloquent of human impotence ; 

The yellow Tiber, and the Pantheon; 

The Forum, and the Coliseum gray; 

Temples, and towers, and that majestic dome! 

From Rome to Florence, by way of Perugia — a journey 
of two hundred miles through the most charming region of 
Italy — was a week of unmingled pleasure. Through the 
kindness of our friend, Mr. Bartholomew, it had been 
arranged for us to travel by vettura — with one of the best 
American families it was our good fortune to meet with 
in Europe — Mr. John Olmsted, of Hartford, his pious, 
amiable, and accomplished wile and daughter, and their 



396 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

courier Dominico — an intelligent and good-natured Italian, 
who thought himself a Christian, the pope a humbug, and 
confession a bore. Accordingly, on a fine Monday morning, 
in the end of May, we bade adieu to many who had endeared 
themselves to us by their obliging offices, and drove forth 
through the Porto del Popolo, over the Ponte Molle, along 
the Via Flaminia, with the flowery Campagna on the one 
side and the classic Tiber on the other, toward the pyramidal 
Soracte and the Umbrian Hills. Whenever we gained some 
little eminence, and turned to look back upon objects we 
shall never behold again, the magnificent proportions of St. 
Peter's — the first and the last that the stranger sees of Koine 
— stood in bold relief against the beautiful sky. Again and 
again, as we passed over the hills, we paused, and gazed, - 
and lingered, and breathed what we deemed a last adieu; 
but as often as we ascended another elevation, and turned to 
look once more, there it was still — the most majestic thing 
in Europe — swelling proudly up into the tranquil azure j and 
long after every other dome had disappeared in the distance 
like Orpah behind Naomi, this seemed to follow us like the 
fond and faithful Ruth. We had now travelled five or six 
hours, when our road mounted a lofty ridge, beyond which 
it descended for a great distance ; and knowing that this 
would certainly be the last view, I left the vettura, and ran 
up into the field, where from the top of the rock I still 
beheld it — the only object visible upon the horizon; and I 
could have wept, as I slowly descended the hill, and St. 
Peter's sank out of my sight for ever. 

As in passing the conscious meridian of life we naturally 
turn from the past to the contemplation of the future, so we 
now ceased to look back upon what we had left behind, for 
another object before us attracted our attention, growing 
every moment in magnitude and in interest. From the 
dome of St. Peter's, from the tower of the Capitol, from the 



PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 897 

green bowers of the Janiculum, from the breezy heights of 
Albano, and from many an eminence overlooking the golden 
Tiber, for the last four months I had admired the form 
of Monte Soracte, rising in lone grandeur from the undulat- 
ing plain, a pyramid of rock in the centre of a mountain 
amphitheatre ; but now, as we drew near, its bold outline be- 
came more sharply defined, its deep hue of amethyst changed 
into emerald and jasper, and with every mile of our approach 
it assumed new majesty and beauty. Its isolated situation, 
its ever-changing form, its densely wooded base, its bare and 
rugged sides, the picturesque town upon its southern flank, 
the three convents which crown its very apex, and the melo- 
dious verse of Virgil, of Horace, and of Byron, invested 
it with a peculiar charm, and I found it difficult to turn my 
eyes in any other direction. The town alluded to is St. 
Oreste, occupying the place of the ancient Feroniaj and the 
principal convent is that of San Sylvestro, founded in the 
eighth century, where once stood the temple of Apollo, and 
where now pause the weary feet of many a foolish pilgrim. 

Our first night's lodging we found at Civita Castellana. 
We were quartered here, as generally in Italy, in the same 
house with the horses ; they occupying the front rooms 
of the lower story, and we the back rooms of the upper. 
The apartments, however, were clean, the beds quite com- 
fortable, and the table tolerably well supplied with whole- 
some food. Having an hour or two before sunset, we re- 
freshed ourselves a little, and went forth to see the town. A 
few steps from our hotel we encountered a prison, from 
whose grated windows long poles were thrust out as we 
passed, with little bags attached to the ends of them, accom- 
panied with imploring cries from within for medzi bajocchi 
— the only method which the inmates have of begging, and, 
I am informed, also in many instances their only means 
of living. We wandered about the streets, through the 



398 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

cathedral, around the castle, over the bridges, along the 
ravines, and everywhere met with objects of gratifying 
interest. The surrounding country is exceedingly beautiful ; 
and Monte Soracte looked more glorious than ever in the 
light of the setting sun, while the sweet villages beyond 
seemed so many cameos cut out of the mountain-side. 

Civita Castellana, occupying the site of the ancient Faleri- 
um — one of the twelve cities of the Etruscan League — is 
built upon a table-land, perfectly surrounded by a deep and 
precipitous gulf. " The massive masonry of the old walls is 
still seen in many places on the verge of the cliff, and the 
rocks below are pierced with numerous tombs and emissaries. 
A curious story is told in connection with the siege of the 
city by Camillus : A schoolmaster, having in charge a large 
number of the sons of the Falerian nobility, under the pre- 
tence of taking them out for an evening walk, led them 
directly to the Koman camp, and betrayed them into the 
hands of the enemy, thinking to be handsomely rewarded 
for his perfidy; but the deed so incensed the generous com- 
mander that he ordered the boys to scourge their master 
back into the city; and his magnanimity so delighted the 
citizens that they surrendered at once to the Romans. 

In the morning, poor Dominico, who had lodged in the 
lower story, appeared to wait on the breakfast-table, looking 
sad and sleepy, with one eye badly swollen. He had evidently 
been rudely treated by his bedfellows, with which he said he 
had waged a most bloody nightlong battle ; but, after slaugh- 
tering some scores of them, had been fairly driven from the 
field before the dawn of day. Resuming our journey, not 
without much sympathy for the unfortunate Dominico, we- 
crossed the gulf on a noble bridge, a hundred and twenty 
feet high; and after an hour's drive through a very beautiful 
country, recrossed the Tiber on the Ponte Felici, originally 
built by the Emperor Augustus, and leaving Etruria behind, 



FROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 399 

began to ascend the wooded hills of Umbria. On the side 
of the river toward Rome, occupying the summit of a little 
hill, stood the dismantled fortress of Borghetto — one of the 
most picturesque of mediaeval ruins ; and on the opposite 
side lay the field of Macdonald's brilliant achievement in 
1798, who, with an army not more than one-third that of the 
enemy, cut his way through the Neapolitan ranks, and forced 
the passage of the Tiber. On the height a little beyond, we 
found the mean little village of Otricoli — the modern repre- 
sentative of the renowned Ocriculum — the first of the Uin- 
brian cities that voluntarily submitted to the Romans. The 
view, as we ascended the mountain, was extremely fine — 
Soracte rising into the clouds behind us, the Tiber winding 
through the valley beneath us, the Nera rushing along the 
bottom of a dark ravine on our left, the Apennines towering 
to a sublime altitude on our right, and the hills before us 
covered to their summits with terraced vineyards and luxuri- 
ant fields of wheat. Next came Narni — the ancient Umbrian 
Narnia — with its castle and its convents, commanding a 
valley of great extent and fertility ; and in the ravine below, 
the bridge of Augustus, built of massive blocks of uncement- 
ed marble, and once traversed by the great Flaminian Way, 
still spanning the stream with its gigantic arches — one of the 
noblest relics of imperial times. 

And now it is noon, and we are at Terni — the ancient 
Interamni — the reputed birthplace of a great Roman histo- 
rian, and of two Roman emperors. The chief attraction 
here is the falls of the Velino, five miles from the town. 
Having dined, we procure a carriage, and go forth to see 
one of the greatest sights in Italy. Our road is all the way 
up hill, and for some distance it is excavated in the face of 
the precipice, actually overhung by the solid mass of the 
mountain, while the torrent frets and foams through a gorge 
at a frightful depth below. But here is the terminus, and 



400 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

we are obliged to alight because we can go no farther. Sud- 
denly we are surrounded by a host of donkeys and drivers, 
with twice as many guides and assistants, and beggars as 
thick as Italian fleas. Some we patronize, and some we pay 
to hold their peace. But for every one thus silenced or dis- 
missed, two new-comers set up their clamorous appeal ; 
insisting with marvellous pertinacity on assisting our pere- 
grinations, or relieving our purses. Nowhere else, even in 
Italy, have we been so formidably besieged. It is with the 
utmost difficulty, though aided by a good cicerone, that we 
succeed in forcing our way through the babbling throng to 
the head of the cascade. Here we are astonished, delighted, 
and plentifully besprinkled with spray. Then we descend, 
and enjoy a much finer view from below, and a more copious 
shower-bath withal. Still descending, and crossing the tor- 
rent upon a narrow footbridge, we gain the opposite side of 
the dell, where we have a complete panorama of the several 
cascades, and the rapids below. No words can. describe the 
magnificence of the scene. The river precipitates itself, at 
a single leap, Murray says five or sis hundred feet — and per- 
haps it is no exaggeration — over a precipice. The entire 
fall has been variously estimated at from nine to twelve hun- 
dred feet. There is nothing else like this in Italy. Even 
Niagara, though much grander on account of the immense 
body of water, falls only a hundred and sixty-four feet. 

But on this subject I must observe an exemplary brevity 
and sobriety, for be thou well assured, most gracious reader, 
that my more enthusiastic fellow-traveller and fellow-writer, 
when she comes to do up her notes of Terni, as usual after 
having seen a little water running over a rock, will treat 
thee to a prolix and very edifying rhapsody. 

Beturning, we passed through the beautiful grounds of 
the Villa G-razziana, where Queen Caroline once resided in 
her grass-widowbooci, where she entertained Sir Walter 



PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 401 

Scott, and capsized the tub in the cellar, and who knows 
what else ? The place looks rather lonely now, though the 
air is perfumed with orange-blossoms, and " the vine with 
the tender grape giveth a good smell," and the brave old 
ilex-trees along the avenue seem formed to shade the head 
of royal beauty. 

This little side excursion cost us three pauls apiece for the 
carriage, three for each mule, five to the postilion, six to the 
cicerone, seven to the several custodies, eight to the swind- 
ling government, all our half-pauls to the assistants, all our 
medzi bajocchi to the beggars, and a good share of our pa- 
tience besides ; yet the expense and the annoyance were 
more than compensated by the pleasure which they pro- 
cured us. 

At our hotel we found a blind fiddler, by no means a bad 
performer, whom we patronized in the evening to the extent 
of five pauls — fifty cents — and who, in consideration of the 
same, gave us five good pieces on his Cremona. 

A night's rest and an early breakfast, backed by an enor- 
mous bill, and we are off through the sweet vale of Terni, 
and over the romantic pass of Monte Somma. The govern- 
ment tariff requires that we shall add to our four horses a 
yoke of oxen to draw us up the mountain ; and so we go 
creeping up the ravine and along the precipice ; and have 
all the better opportunity to see and survey at leisure the 
fine scenery around us. Five or six miles, and we pass Casa 
del Papa — the villa and summer-residence of Leo the 
Twelfth — now an indifferent albergo — on the side of a 
dreary hill. It was here, by a happy experiment, I learned 
how to rid oneself of the annoying importunity of the 
Italian beggars. This pass swarms with them — generally 
children, and chiefly little girls — not one in fifty of whom 
seems to be really in need of charity. Good Mrs. Olmsted 
never suffered one that looked sick, or poor, or hungry, to 



402 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

ask in vain, so long as there was aught left in the bag. 
Unfortunately, however, the more we gave, the more they 
begged ; and as our supplies diminished, the applicants mul- 
tiplied ; and all our small change was gone, and also our 
bread and cheese, before the twentieth part of them were 
satisfied. I resolved to turn beggar myself, and to the first 
that approached I promptly presented my hat before, she had 
an opportunity to begin, saying in as piteous a tone as I 
could : "Date mi qualche cosa, Carra Signorina mia— 
medzo hajoccho mi contento." This measure was singularly 
effectual ; and I beg leave respectfully to recommend' it to 
all my friends who may hereafter travel in Italy, under the 
title of "A Short Method with Beggars/' 

On the other side of the mountain we found Spoletto — 
the ancient Spoletium — overlooking the valley of the Cli- 
tumnus, and an extensive tract of the most delightful coun- 
try in the world. The citadel, built by Theodoric during 
the Gothic wars, frequently altered and enlarged, is now 
used as a prison. The Porta d'Annibale, probably a Roman 
structure, bears witness to the resistance which the Cartha- 
ginian here met with in his march through Umbria, after 
the battle of Thrasymenus, proving the fidelity of the city 
to the Roman cause, and its strength, to have braved the 
conqueror, and arrested his progress in the very flush of vic- 
tory. Over a ravine which separates the city from Monte 
Luco is a tier of arches, two hundred and sixty-six feet 
high, serving both as an aqueduct and a bridge, attributed 
to the Romans, but probably the work of the Lombard dukes 
of Spoletto. Monte Luco is remarkable for its monastery, 
its numerous hermitages, and its sacredly-guarded grove of 
majestic oaks. The town contains a highly-decorated cathe- 
dral, with some remains of an ancient theatre, and of three 
pagan temples. In the middle ages it was an important 
place, and long maintained its independence; but Avas at 



PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 403 

length conquered by Frederic Barbarossa, by whom it was 
pillaged and burned. 

One of the chronicles of Spoletto, relating to the civil 
wars of the Guelphs and the Grhibbilines, contains the fol- 
lowing horrible picture of political fanaticism carried to the 
extreme verge of, ferocity: When the Ghibbilines were 
burning the houses of their adversaries, a woman, who had 
married a Guelph, and had two sons, seeing her own brother 
about to fire her dwelling, ascended to the top of the tower 
with her children, and thence implored his compassion. He 
promised her salvation only on condition that she would 
throw the two embryo Gruelphs down into the flames ; but 
the mother's love was stronger than the fear of death, and 
she perished with her sons. 

From Spoletto we descended into the valley of the Cli- 
tumnus, called by Bonaparte "the garden of Italy." For 
forty miles or more, the country is one continuous vineyard ; 
and the earth was covered with a luxuriant growth of wheat, 
fast ripening for the harvest. The white and dove-colored 
cattle which abound here are the noblest animals I ever 
beheld — descendants of those from among which the sacred 
victims were chosen in the days of classic song. The 
Clituinnus, celebrated by Virgil and by Byron, bursts a full- 
grown river, limpid as May-dew, from the base of the moun- 
tain. Near its source is the temple of the river-god — a 
small building, of fine proportions — perhaps the very one 
mentioned by the younger Pliny. 

Our third night was spent at Foligno, famous for wax-can- 
dles. At the gate by which we entered still stood the 
triumphal arch and colonnade, composed of palm-branches 
and flowers, constructed in honor of the pope on his late 
visit to the city. It is said that the Holy Father intended 
to take Perugia in his tour, and a similar structure was 
erected there ; but during the night preceding his expected 



404 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

arrival it was completely demolished and burned; where- 
upon he turned aside at Foligno, and took the road to 
Loretto. It is reported also that his pockets were full of 
pardons for the political prisoners at Perugia, but after such 
treatment he refused to dispense any of them, though the 
offenders had remained eight years incarcerated without 
trial. The ostensible object of his tour was a religious pil- 
grimage ; but it is since rumored that he was advised to it 
by France and Austria, in view of certain indications of 
popular discontent rife throughout this portion of his do- 
minions ; which rumor has been alarmingly corroborated by 
recent developments. 

In the public square, near the centre of the town, we saw- 
a fine Corinthian pillar, sixty feet high, composed entirely of 
white wax ; the shaft consisting of enormous candles, the 
capital elaborately wrought with flowers, a colossal statue of 
" Our Lady" at the top, and four life-size figures at the base. 
It was recently erected, ostensibly in honor of the Immacu- 
late Conception, but really in compliment to His Holiness, 
who it was hoped would show some mercy to the poor suffer- 
ers in the Foligno dungeons. I trembled for the beautiful 
ornament, as I saw a horse, running away with a carriage, 
dash furiously through the piazza ; but it was not touched, 
though the fragments of the shattered vehicle were strewn 
plentifully around it. 

Afterward, walking alone in the street, I saw a Jew sell- 
ing a piece of cloth to an Italian, when a third person, in 
apparent playfulness, threw the end of the article over the 
merchant's face ; and the latter instantly drew a knife, and 
rushed upon him, and he must inevitably have been stabbed, 
had he not dexterously sprung out of his way, and made 
good use of his sole-leather. 

In 1831 and 1882, and again in 1889, Foligno experienced 
several earthquakes, which did much damage, destroying 



PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 405 

many buildings, and about a hundred human lives. It is 
somewhat remarkable that a city located upon an alluvial 
plain should have suffered so severely from these phenomena, 
while the towns which occupy the lower slopes of the neigh- 
boring mountains received little or no injury. 

Three miles from Foligno is Spello, full of Roman anti- 
quities, and the fame of Orlando. In the wall, near an 
ancient gate, is a monumental inscription, celebrating the 
exploits of that worthy personage. Orlando is the Italian 
Hercules of the middle ages. They have multiplied the 
legends of his labors, as the Greeks did those of the ancient 
hero ; and Ariosto only brilliantly embodied those different 
traditions handed down in songs and tales for more than six 
hundred years. 

We paused an hour by the way to take a view of the fine 
church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. It was here that Saint 
Francis founded his monastic order; and in the centre of 
the spacious edifice is a small house, built of rough stone, 
in which they say he lived and practiced the severe rules 
which he laid down for the fraternity. It is now occupied 
as a chapel ; and while we were there, several monks were 
performing some religious service in it. On its front is a 
remarkable fresco by Overbeck, regarded as the chef cV oeuvre 
of that popular artist, representing .the vision or ecstasy of 
the saint. 

On a hill, two miles from the church, stands Assisi, the 
ancient Assisium, where Saint Francis was born, where his 
dust is now enshrined in an elegant mausoleum ; and a whole 
museum of his relics is sacredly preserved in the monastery 
of St. Clare. The convent, which stands upon a lofty rock, 
and with its massive walls and towers looks like an immense 
fortress, is said to have been built in the incredibly short 
space of two years. Assisi is the native town also of two 
elegant Italian poets — Propertius and Metastasio. Its anti- 



406 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

quities are a Roman theatre, a temple of Minerva, and 
numerous fragmentary substructions and walls. 

Saint Francis lived in a time when Italian society was 
exceedingly corrupt, and the spirit of true Christianity was 
almost unknown among the religious orders. He was but 
twenty-five when he set himself resolutely to stem the tide 
of the prevalent depravity. His family regarded him as 
mad ; and the cell is still shown at Assisi where he is said to 
have been confined by his father, and afterward mercifully 
liberated by his mother. The result shows him to have been 
a man of earnest and mighty spirit. There was something 
very impressive in the austerity of his life and the pro- 
fusion of his alms. Men of distinction, and ladies of 
fashion, soon flocked to his standard. Young enthusiasts, 
and rich and beautiful maidens, adopted his principles and 
espoused his cause. The lower classes found, in the order 
which he instituted, a sort of emancipation and security ; and 
were glad to escape serfdom by becoming monks. Thus the 
fraternity grew and flourished ; and now, after the lapse of 
more than six hundred years, constitutes a rich and powerful 
body in the Roman Catholic Church. But such is the 
influence of human depravity, that every thing good on 
earth naturally tends to degeneration ; and it is not wonder- 
ful that such a community, with errors so many and so great 
incorporated in its very constitution, though originating in 
love to Grod and man, should soon change for the worse in 
manners and moral discipline. The corruption of the Fran- 
ciscans is represented by Italian writers of the sixteenth cen- 
tury as a matter of common notoriety. Machiavelli, Castig- 
lione, and Ariosto, accuse them of the greatest cruelty and 
the most enormous crimes ; and Dante and Tasso, while they 
laud their leader to the skies, satirize severely the vices of 
his followers. 

A few miles farther on wc crossed the Tiber, for the third 



FROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 407 

time during our journey, and probably the last for ever. We 
were now once more in Etruria, and soon came to the most 
remarkable Etruscan sepulchre hitherto discovered — the 
Grotta dei Volumni. By a long flight of steps, cut in the soft 
tufa, we descended to the door. The original — a block of 
travertine, six feet high, four feet broad, and eight inches 
thick — stands leaning against the wall of the passage, while 
its place is supplied with an iron one of modern construc- 
tion. Our cicerone lighted a taper, and led us into the 
solemn chambers of the dead. There is one large apart- 
ment, twenty-four feet by twelve in area, and sixteen in 
height, around which are nine others of smaller size, all 
hewn out of the living rock. The roof is cut into the form 
of beams and rafters; and heads of Medusa, with serpents 
and other curious devices, are carved upon the walls. There 
are several pendant lamps, and a mock genius swinging from 
the roof by a thread of bronze. The cinerary urns, or ves- 
sels containing the ashes of the dead, are all in one room. 
There are seven of these, all of elaborate workmanship — six 
of travertine, and one of marble. The latter is in the form 
of a temple, and has an inscription in Latin upon its front, 
and in Etruscan across the roof; which, when discovered, 
furnished the key to the language of ancient Etruria. These 
things were placed here, precisely as we now find them, two 
thousand years ago ; but the more valuable articles — orna- 
ments of bronze, and jewels of massive gold — were removed 
long ago to the neighboring villa. There are scores of other 
tombs in the neighborhood of this, much in the same condi- 
tion ; and maoy hundreds, probably, which have never yet 
beeu opened, all belonging to the necropolis of an ancient 
and powerful city. 

Think not lightly of the race that excavated these dark 
sepulchral chambers. Their national glory culminated long- 
before Rome was founded. From them the Mistress of the 



408 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

World took lessons in painting and in architecture. One of 
their kings — Porsenna — humbled her upon her seven hills. 
The substructions of their citadels and temples which she 
destroyed have outlasted many of her own, erected a thou- 
sand years later. Thrust your hand in where that ponderous 
stone lid has been lifted, and you shall touch the ashes of 
departed chiefs and rulers. This Etruria had twelve king- 
doms, with twelve capital cities, and twelve mighty kings; 
and every capital had its subordinate municipalities, with its 
senate and its army. But what nation could endure that 
worshipped idols, and consulted the oracles of devils ? 
Egypt and Assyria had done so, and they had perished. So 
perished Etruria ; and nothing remains of her now but these, 
tombs, and the massive fragments of her masonry, scattered 
over the Italian hills. 

On an eminence, a thousand feet above, stands Perugia, the 
representative of the ancient Parousia. The buildings rise 
tier above tier, like a gigantic stairway in the rock ; and a 
stout yoke of white oxen is again added to our four horses 
to draw us up to the city gate. We spent four pleasant 
hours in looking about, but as many days were scarcely 
enough for all the interesting objects here to be seen. There 
are more than a hundred churches, and thirty monastic and 
conventual institutions. The cathedral is a grand old Gothic 
structure, with gorgeous stained windows, containing two 
famous works of art — Perugina's Madonna, and Baroccio's 
Deposition from the Cross. The frescoes of the Exchange, 
and the heraldic decorations of the Municipal Palace, are 
objects of curious interest. The most remarkable thing, 
however, is the old Etruscan gate, with its massive tiers of 
uncemented travertine, forty or fifty feet high, standing as it 
stood twenty centuries ago, left unscathed by the conflagra- 
tion which in the reign of Augustus destroyed the city. In 
the fourteenth century a hundred thousand people perished 



PROM ROME TO FLORENCE. 409 

here by the plague. The present population is not more 
than fifteen thousand. But the place is rich in architecture, 
and in works of the belli arti; and its university, next to 
those of Home and Bologna, is deemed the best in the Papal 
States. The view which we enjoyed from the site of the 
fallen citadel no language can describe — the valleys of the 
Tiber and the Clitumnus spreading out in living emerald before 
us, the mountains on either hand studded with shining towns 
and villages, and the snowy masses of the Abruzzi gleaming 
from afar like an immense city of amethyst and opal ! 

We spent our fourth night at a miserable little town on 
the margin of Lake Thrasymenus, a memorable place in the 
annals of Roman warfare. The next morning we pursued 
our way over the field where Hannibal won his great victory 
over the Consul Flaminius. It is a level area of several 
miles, lying along the shore, and shut in by a semicircular 
range of precipitous hills in the rear, the extremities of 
which form two bold promontories at the edge of the lake. 
From the moment the Roman legions entered the pass, the 
wily Carthaginian had the game fairly in his own hand. 
How the consul was ever beguiled into such a snare is the 
marvel. Whoever will but look over the ground will be 
ready to vote him a madman. The Sanguinetta, which rolls 
through the plain, perpetuates in its name the memory of 
the disaster; the "Tower of Hannibal" still looks down 
triumphant from its eminence upon the field of slaughter; 
and blood-red poppies, blooming amid the luxuriant wheat, 
have sprung up from the graves of the slain. 

We now crossed the papal frontier, and left behind us 
much that is undesirable. Henceforward we saw a more 
thriving and cheerful population, and heard less of To fammi, 
and Date mi qualche cosa. But the beauty and fertility of 
the country through which we now journeyed it is quite im- 
possible to describe — the delightful alternation of hill and 
18 



410 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

vale, towering mountains and far-spreading vineyards, the 
infinite profusion of wild flowers which loaded the air with 
fragrance, with fields of grain such as I never saw before, 
and scarcely expect ever to see again, all bathed in the 
delicious gold and purple of an Italian atmosphere ! 

Passing Cortona — a city anterior, it is said, to Troy — we 
glided along the sweet-blossoming vale of the Chiana, and 
soon reached Arezzo, the birthplace of illustrious men, 
where we beheld the house of Petrarch, a statue of the 
Grand Duke Ferdinand the First, and the tomb of the 
famous fighting Bishop of Petramala. In a wild mountain 
pass, a little farther on, we saw by the wayside a huge black 
cross, marking the spot where, not long ago, the diligence 
had been stopped by banditti, and the driver and passen- 
gers literally cut to pieces. That night we lodged at Le 
Vane, and the next day about noon looked down from the 
hills upon the fair capital of the middle ages, reposing in a 
paradise of verdure upon the banks of the meandering Arno. 



THE CITY OF FLOWERS. 411 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE CITY OF FLOWERS. 

THE BEAUTY OF FLORENCE COMPARISON WITH ROME CATHEDRAL 

AND CAMPANILE OTHER INTERESTING OBJECTS AND LOCALITIES 

POETRY HIRAM POWER FINE ARTS RAPE OF THE SABINES 

UFFIZI GALLERY MICHAEL ANGELO PITTI PALACE THE FLYING 

ASS AGRICULTURAL FAIR BLASPHEMY OF ART. 



The vines, the flowers, the air, the skies, that fling 

Such wild enchantment o'er Boccaccio's tales 

Of Florence and the Arno. Halleck. 

What a beautiful city ! What a beautiful country sur- 
rounds it ! How different from Rome ! so bright and cheer- 
ful, so clean and comfortable, and comparatively free from 
beggars. The Arno reminds one of the Tiber — albeit not 
so deep, nor so wide, nor so strong, nor so rapid, nor so 
golden, nor so rich in heroic fame. Yet it is a pretty river, 
bordered on both sides by fine buildings, and spanned by 
three stone bridges, two of which are elegant, and the other 
picturesque, with a good suspension-bridge at each extremity 
of the town. Florence is rather neatly built, and has some 
very massive and imposing structures, of which the lower 
stories, & V Etrusque, are anomalous in modern architecture. 
Rome has more palaces, but none equal to the Pitti ; and 



412 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

more campaniles, but none so gorgeous as Giotto's marble 
tower, or so graceful as the octagonal steeple of the Badia, 
or so lofty as the machicolated belfry of the Palazzo 
Vecchio. If, from the top of the Capitol, or the dome of 
St. Peter's, you look down upon the environs of Rome, 
three miles beyond the walls you see nothing but a dreary 
waste sown with the ruUis of antiquity ; but the picturesque 
hills which surround Firenza la bella are covered with villas, 
mansions, churches, and convents, embowered in living 
bloom ; and in every direction, as far as the sight can reach, 
the country seems a continuous city, with gardens inter- 
spersed among its palaces. 

The exterior of the cathedral, built of black and white 
marble, is perfectly magnificent. The dome which sur- 
mounts it is larger and taller than that of St. Peter's, but 
not elevated near so far from the pavement. Michael 
Angelo made it his model when he planned that majestic 
structure; and marked out the place for his tomb in the 
Church of Santa Croce, in full view of its magnificent pro- 
portions. Brunnelleschi, the builder, sits in a niche across 
the way, looking up at his work in the most natural manner, 
with an expression of intense pleasure upon his noble coun- 
tenance. Near this statue is a marble slab let into the wall, 
indicating the spot where Dante used to sit at sunsetting, 
and gaze upon the glorious campanile, and listen to its 
incomparable chimes. Bells like these I never heard before. 
The voice of the largest, full of majesty, is soft as a lady's 
lute. Hark ! it announces the Ave Maria; and now the 
chimes of a dozen churches, like angel harmonies, are call- 
ing the populace to prayer. The tower itself is the finest 
thing in the world ; one can never be weary of looking at 
it ; and the Florentines, when they wish to describe any 
thing as particularly beautiful, say, "As beautiful as the 
Campanile." The bronze doors of the baptistery, which 



THE CITY OF FLOWERS. 413 

Michael Angelo deemed fit to be the gates of Paradise, are 
not unworthy of their fame. The Medicean chapel, at the 
Church of San Lorenzo, encrusted with jasper, and granite, 
and lapis-lazuli, is as gorgeous as human art can make it; 
and the frescoes of its incomparable cupola are the finest 
things in Florence. The Church of Santa Croce is the 
Tuscan "Westminster Abbey, containing the mausoleums of 
Michael Angelo, Machiavelli, Galileo, and many other men 
of genius, with the cenotaph of Dante, where his tomb 
should have been. The pretty Ponte Vecchio, lined on 
both sides with shops of jewelry, has quite an Oriental 
aspect; and those golden chains seem to bind the feet of 
many a passenger. The Boboli Gardens, with their arbors 
of laurel, and arches of ilex, and colonnades of cypress, 
their pools, and fountains, and grottoes, and green terraces, 
and groups of statuary, are superior to the Pincio; and the 
Cacine, with its lawns, and meadows, and hedges of shrub- 
bery, and groves of ivy-mantled elms, and shady walks and 
drives along the pleasant Arno, frequented by the beau 
monde of Florence, and charmed with the songs of nightin- 
gales, is more beautiful, because less artificial, than the 
grounds of the Borghese or the Pamfilidoria. Here is a 
sketch for you ; I name not its author : 

What is yon the stranger sees, 
Peeping through the silken trees — 
Glittering bands of red and white, 
Peaks and masses rainbow-dight ? 

Stranger, 'tis a city rare — 

Tuscan Florence, passing fair. 

What is yon, with melting hue — 
Now 'tis lilac, now 'tis blue — 
Sharp the crest its outline heaves, 
Just behind the cottage eaves ? 

Stranger, 'tis the mountain's line — 

'Tis the purple Apennine. 



414 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

What is yon comes dipping, dancing, 
Sparkling, flashing, sweeping, glancing, 
Whispering through the osier bush, 
Eddying round the tufted rush ? 

Stranger, 'tis the Tuscan pride — 

His dear Arno's silver tide. 

Pictures and statues are things to look at, not to write 
about ; yet I should be set down for a blockhead and a Van- 
dal were I to pass the Belle Arti of Florence unmentioned. 
Who knows not that in this fairest of Italian cities lives and 
toils our fellow-countryman, Hiram Power, glorifying by his 
genius his own name and his native land ? I have been 
several times in his studio, and spent an evening with the 
artist and his family at the house of a mutual friend. He is 
a very agreeable man, full of thought, and free of tongue ; 
always amusing you with his humor, but never offending 
you with his egotism. His Greek Slave, which has en- 
chanted the world, is surpassed I think by his America and 
his California. The former ought to be in the Capitol at 
Washington, for which it was intended ; but still stands in 
the sculptor's room, because the noble creature is trampling 
on a chain ! A finer expression of the American spirit of 
freedom and scorn of tyranny could scarcely be conceived 
than that Mr. Power has here furnished to the world. Let 
the America come home ! 

Florence has some of the finest things in existence; and 
enough of the mediocre, the indifferent, and the intolerable, 
to bewilder one's brains for a twelvemonth. The Grand 
Duke throws open the Pitti collection with commendable 
liberality, though, no doubt, he has his reward in the 
revenue thus reaped from the forestieri. The Uffizi halls 
are seldom closed except on feast-days, and the Academia is 
as free as a bazaar. The great Piazza, with its adjacent 
Logia. contains some admirable statuary. Ammanato's 



THE CITY OF FLOWERS. 415 

Neptune and horses are full of majesty and power. Michael 
Angelo's David is a noble creation; but our party voted 
unanimously to christen him Saul. Benvenuto Cellini's 
Perseus is the most remarkable bronze I ever saw — a glorious 
compensation for the fever which it cost him, and the plate 
sacrificed in the casting. Bandinelli's Hercules has some- 
thing of the disdainful haughtiness which characterized its 
author ; and this best production of the envious depredator 
of Michael Angelo and avowed enemy of Benvenuto Cel- 
lini stands between the David and the Perseus. 

There is a group here by John of Bologna — a young man 
bearing off a young womau in his arms, with an old man 
struggling beneath his feet — which has a very curious his- 
tory. The story is, that when it was finished, the artist 
called together his friends to tell him what he should call it; 
and after some deliberation and discussion, they agreed to 
name it " The Rape of the Sabines." Its appearance pro- 
duced a wonderful sensation throughout Italy. An amateur 
at Rome, hearing of it, came all the way to Florence on 
horseback to see it. On his arrival he rode straight to the 
Logia, surveyed the group for a moment, exclaimed, " Is 
that the thing they make so much noise about V and then, 
without dismounting, turned his horse, and rode back to 
Rome. This production continues still to be the pet of 
Florence. Francis says justly, " It has great merits, no 
doubt, but modesty is not one of them." Valery thinks 
" it is in reality little more than an ale-house scene — a 
soldier knocking down the husband, and then running away 
with his wife." 

There are some excellent pictures in the TJfSzi Palace, and 
an extensive collection of statuary. The Hall of Niobe is 
full of touching interest — a noble expression of maternal 
love and sorrow. The Dancing Fawn exhibits active motion 
with exquisite balance. The Wrestlers look as if they might 



416 A TEAR IN EUROPE. 

edge along the floor and roll over the visitor. The charm 
of the Venus de Medicis is the incomparable attitude, com- 
bining the greatest modesty and dignity. Andrea del Sar- 
to's Madonna perhaps has never been surpassed. The two 
Madonnas of Raphael also are full of inspiration. The works 
of Titian abound here ; but, as a sensible Scotchman says, 
" the originals ought to be veiled, and the copies burned !" 

Florence is full of the productions of Michael Angelo. 
He is always " grand, gloomy, and peculiar;" and ; with 
greater propriety than Napoleon, may be called, " the man 
without a model, and without a shadow." He excels. in the 
monstrous and the terrible, is frequently more original than 
natural, and has but little in common with the ancient 
masters. His chisel reminds one of the pen of iEschylus, or 
the brush of Salvator Rosa. In tenderness he is far inferior 
to Canova — farther perhaps than Canova to the Greeks. By 
the way, how many things Michael Angelo left unfinished ! 
Here are dozens in Florence, abandoned in the various 
stages of their execution. Having discovered the figure in 
the formless block, he labored with the utmost impetuosity 
to reach it, lopping off huge masses with his chisel, and 
struggling fiercely against the stubborn stone ; but before he 
had fully brought his grand ideal to light, some fairer vision 
dawned upon his fancy ; and hastening to execute the latest 
prompting of his genius, he was always running away from 
one angel after another. 

The Pitti Palace contains more than five hundred large 
paintings, besides innumerable smaller ones. Here are the 
incomparable creations of Raphael, Ruysdale, Canova, Claude 
Loraine, and Salvator Rosa. Of Raphael's " Seggiola," 
originally painted on the head of a cask for the want of a 
better canvas, perhaps ten thousand copies have been taken. 
Canova's Venus occupied the pedestal of the Athenian 
beauty after the latter was carried captive to the Louvre, and 



THE CITY OP FLOWERS. 417 

was on that account surnanied by the Florentines, "La Con- 
solatrice." 

The Pitti Palace is the residence of the Grand Duke. 
While looking at his vast collection of gojd and silver plate, 
I could not help wishing it were all coined into piastres, and 
I had the disposing of it. It would feed all Tuscany for a 
twelvemonth. The tables of Florentine mosaic, of which I 
saw eighteen or twenty, if sold for their real value, would 
furnish the whole city with bread for many years. One 
of these, composed entirely of precious stones, is worth two 
hundred thousand dollars ! No wonder Tuscany is rife with 
revolution. 

The Museum of Natural History is a world of beauty. 
We lingered long to gaze at the line statue of Galileo, with 
his quaint old astronomical instruments arranged around 
him, the preserved right fore-finger, with which he pointed 
a thousand times to the stars, and many other relics of the 
heroic philosopher. The Grand Duke, and his fine-looking 
wife, with all the royal family of sixteen, and the entire 
cortege of the palace, were a far less interesting sight than 
the carpet of flowers, two hundred feet long, and sixty feet 
wide, over which the gorgeous procession passed on the feast 
of Corjjus Domini. 

About the most impressive ceremony of this great Chris- 
tian festival, after all, is that of " the Flying Ass." Of 
this sublime solemnity I should have known nothing, but 
for the kind offices of an American and an English friend, 
who called to invite me to accompany them. The ass, with 
large gilt wings attached to his shoulders, was taken to the 
top of a lofty campanile, whence he slid down a rope extend- 
ing far into the broad piazza below. The holy a,nimal 
brayed in a manner very edifying to the faithful just as he 
started earthward — a tolerable imitation of what I heard the 
same day in the cathedral ! 
18* 



418 A YEAR IN EUROPE.' 

The Agricultural Fair, recently held at the Cacine, was a 
very interesting spectacle to a foreigner : albeit, the straight- 
handled scythes, the wooden pitchforks, the ponderous hay- 
rakes, and various labor-saving machines on exhibition, 
would have furnished no small amusement to an American 
or English farmer; but the floral display, for variety, deli- 
cacy, and gorgeousness, surpassed all I ever dreamed of the 
beautiful productions of our fallen planet. The horses were 
decidedly mean, the mules far inferior to those of Kentucky 
and Tennessee ; but 0, John Bull, what a sight for a British 
beef-eater, what a theme for a Latin bard, were those- white 
and dove-colored cows and oxen — so gigantic, yet so ele- 
gantly formed ! Such was the ancient breed of the classical 
Clitumnus. The Tuscan cattle are all white or dove-colored, 
and if others are introduced from abroad, they soon learn to 
conform to the popular livery — an instructive sermon for 
heretics, and an edifying lecture for American ministers 
abroad ! 

I cannot help saying a few words concerning the blas- 
phemy of art in Italy. In Rome, Naples, Florence, and 
everywhere, the Protestant tourist is continually shocked by 
the representations on canvas of the Son of Grod, and even 
of the Eternal Father, and the Holy Spirit, which obtrude 
themselves upon his sight in the churches and galleries. No 
pictures are more common ; yet the artists themselves ac- 
knowledge that the subjects infinitely transcend their skill 
of execution, and all human conception. Is it not blas- 
phemy to touch them ? And what does the Romish Church 
with the second commandment, while she is thus decorating 
her places of worship ? 

True, " the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, 
and we beheld his glory;" but it was "the glory as of the 
Only-Begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth." 
Who shall think to portray its attributes? What rapture of 



THE CITY OP FLOWERS. 419 

artistic inspiration shall match the celestial beauty of that 
" human face divine ?" Christ was not without feeling ; 
but he was above passion. Joy and sorrow could reach his 
soul, for he was man ; but they could not cloud his serenity, 
for he was God. Benevolence, which brought him from the 
throne to the manger, and led him from the manger to the 
cross, was his prevailing sentiment, and must have shed over 
all his features a perpetual expression of unparalleled benig- 
nity and love. To obey the laws of nature, or to suspend or 
reverse them, was to him equally easy; a miracle cost him 
no effort, and produced in him no surprise. To submit or 
command, to suffer or triumph, to live or die, were alike 
welcome in their turns, as the result of reason and of mercy. 
To do the will of his Father was the object of his mission ; 
and every step that led to its accomplishment, easy or ardu- 
ous, was to him the same. What painter shall presume to 
trace the semblance of such a character ? What hand has 
hitherto reached the conception of the mind that guided it, 
or what mind has conceived a worthy idea of the majestic 
beauty of the Son of God ? Every attempt must be an 
infinite failure. True, the Divine Infants of Raphael, Titian, 
and Carlo Dolce are often of exquisite beauty ; and some of 
the last especially have I seen that seemed beings of really a 
superior nature, enjoying at once the innocence and the 
bloom of paradise; and the Saviour in Leonardo de Vinci's 
Last Supper is a wonderful figure, every feature of whose 
super-seraphic face speaks compassion and love. But it 
must be remembered that these were not the only attributes 
of that sacred personage : justioe and holiness sat serenely on 
his brow, and beamed through all his looks, casting an awful 
majesty as a veil about him; and these grand qualities of 
the Godhead are sought for in vain in all the artistic repre- 
sentations I have yet seen of the world's Redeemer and 
Judge. Two or three have I looked upon of a nobler and 



420 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

happier touch : a Christ disputing with the doctors in the 
temple, where the youthful face seems actually radiant with 
the Divine Reason ; a Christ raising the widow's son at the 
gate of Nain, where unspeakable compassion seems blended 
with illimitable power; and a picture of the Crucifixion, in 
which the unknown anguish of the sufferer is lit up with the 
sublime satisfaction of having achieved the world's redemp- 
tion. But these, and a few others, are exceptions. On very 
few of the pictures of Christ can the eye rest with any 
degree of pleasure. Even Michael Angelo, in his great 
painting of the Last Judgment, in the Sistine Chapel, has 
given the Judge the aspect of an irritated and vindictive 
monarch, more worthy of Homer's Jupiter than of the 
Christian's "Judge of quick and dead." 

But if such representations of "the man Christ Jesus" 
are necessarily failures, what shall we say of the frequent 
attempts to portray the Divine Essence itself, the grand 
archetype of all beauty and perfection ? True, the Prophet 
Daniel speaks of beholding the Ancient of days in a visible 
form, and traces an obscure sketch of the Eternal; but he 
was guided by Inspiration Divine, to which none of our 
painters can pretend ; and even then, he attempts not to 
portray the features of God, and only one circumstance of 
his person is mentioned. He ventures no farther than the 
hair, the garments, the burning throne, the ministering 
host, and multitudes waiting their doom; but leaves the 
form and face of the Eternal to the imagination — rather the 
religious terror — of the reader. Artists should imitate his 
reverence, and refrain from all endeavors to embody the 
Infinite Mind in a human figure. I do not see, indeed, how 
any one with proper views of the Divine Majesty can venture 
on such an effort, or gaze with pleasure upon its result. Yet 
God is thus insulted and dishonored in almost every church 
of Italy ; and the original of all that is lovely or glorious in 



THE CITY OP FLOWERS. 421 

the universe is represented with the aspect of human decre- 
pitude and decay. In Raphael's picture of the Creation, in 
one of the galleries of the Vatican, the Eternal Father is 
painted with hands and feet expanded, darting into chaos, 
and reducing the distracted elements to order by mere physi- 
cal motion. This might do for the pagan Jove ; but it will 
not do for the Christian Grod. It is unworthy of the artist's 
lofty genius. How different the representations of inspired 
Scripture : " He spake, and they were made ; he commanded, 
and they were created I" 



422 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER XXXJI. 

HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 

ENVIRONS OF FLORENCE — PISA GRANrJ* ILLUMINATION PAST AND 

PRESENT LEGHORN PRATOLINA SUMMIT OF THE APENNINES 

COVIGLIAJO MINIATURE VOLCANO POVERI INFELICE HARVEST 

WAGES MOUNTAIN SCENERY — BOLOGNA FERRARA — PADUA VENICE 

AGAIN THE PETER MARTYR FINE CHURCHES SOLEMN STILLNESS 

OF THE CITY ACROSS LOMBARDY THE PICTURESQUE FAREWELL 

TO ITALY THE ALPS THE TETE NOIRE — MAGNIFICENT IRIS FROM 

MONT BLANC TO LONDON. 



I saw the Alps, the everlasting hills, 

A mighty chain, that stretched their awful forms, 

To catch the glories of the morning sun, - -»--» 

And cast their shadows o'er the realms of noon. 

Dr. Raffles. 

I shall not detain thee, impatient reader, with a descrip- 
tion of Fiesole the ancient ; like a royal mother looking 
down from her mountain throne upon the princely daughter 
— Firenze la bella — at her feet. I shall say nothing of her 
Cyclopean wall, some ages older than the earliest substruc- 
tions of Rome ; nor mention the remains of her arx and her 
amphitheatre ; nor sketch the fair prospect toward Valam- 
hrosa and the Camaldoli — toward Pisa, and Livorno, and 
the Mediterranean coast; nor tell thee how the City of 
Flowers, itself a flower of wondrous beauty, opens from its 
calix before the enchanted gazer : the Duomo and the 



HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 423 

Campanile in the centre, with the beautiful octagonal 
steeple of the Badia, and the lofty belfry of the Palazzo 

Vecchio, with the surrounding spires and towers, forming a 
cluster to which there is nothing comparable in Europe, 
shooting forth like the stamens and pistils ; while the sub- 
urban villas and villages, environed with fragrant vineyards 
and variegated gardens, and churches and convents cluster- 
ing on every little hill, are like a vast corolla, spreading its 
gorgeous circumference, petal upon petal, for many miles 
around. 

Pardon this Oriental picture : the idea is borrowed ; and 
the simile falls immeasurably short of the incomparable love- 
liness which it aims to describe. Charles the Fifth thought 
Florence was too beautiful to be seen except on holidays; 
and Ariosto says, if all the fine villas which are scattered, as 
if the soil produced them spontaneously, over the surround- 
ing eminences, were gathered within the wall, two Romes 
could not vie with her in beauty. 

Nor have I much to tell thee of the Villa Mozzi, the 
retreat of Catiline the conspirator, where his buried jars of 
Roman coin were recently discovered; the residence of 
Lorenzo Magnifico, where he sat sublime in his lofty balcony, 
amid the encircling Apennines, with his feet dangling over 
Florence. Nor shall I keep thee long at San Miniato, with 
its romantic story of the conversion of Giovanni Gualbcrto, 
and its outlook upon the fairest of cities and the loveliest of 
valleys, " down which the yellow Arno, through its long 
reaches, steals silently to the sea." Nor can I do more than 
point thee to the Torre del Gallo, where " the starry Gali- 
leo" read the open book of heaven ; and the villa in which 
he dwelt on the Bellosgtiardo, where he communed with 
Milton, and whence at length his spirit returned to God. 

To-morrow — the sixteenth of June — is the grand quad- 
rennial festival at Pisa, in honor of its patron, San Ranieri ; 



424 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and we must not miss the brilliant Laminara, the most 
splendid spectacle of the kind in the world. Two hours by 
railway, and we are there. It is not yet noon, but the city 
is swarming with people. A little refreshment, and away to 
see the superb Duomo, the incomparable Baptistery, the terri- 
fic beauty of the inclining Campanile, and the Campo Santo, 
with its monuments and inscriptions, its numerous statues 
and frescoes, and its sixteen feet of holy earth, brought 
from Mount Calvary, and perchance crimsoned with the 
blood of our redemption. 

It is evening. Throughout the day, up and down the 
Lungarno, on both sides of the river, extensive preparations 
for the illumination have been going forward, at a cost of. 
over a hundred thousand dollars ; and now the lamps are 
lighted, and the front of every building is ablaze from base 
to battlement, and the temporary structures which have been 
reared in every part of the city kindle gradually into castles 
and temples and palaces of fire in every fantastic form ; and 
arches of fire spring over the Arno; and festoons of fire run 
along its bridges ; and gondolas of fire glide to and fro upon 
its waters ; and crosses of fire seem suspended here and there 
against the ebon sky ; and every street is an avenue of fire, 
and every dome is a hemisphere of fire, and every campanile 
a column of fire, and the great leaning tower a vision' of 
beauty never to be forgotten. I had seen the illumination 
of Saint Peter's, and the grand pyrotechnic display from the 
Pincio j but these were nothing to what I here beheld. It 
was more beautiful than any dream. It looked as if heaven 
had rained all its stars upon the city, and made me think of 
the New Jerusalem which shall one day come down from 
God! 

"A glowing picture, my friend !" 0, would that thou 
hadst been there, appreciating reader, to behold with me the 
far more brilliant original ! 



HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 425 

Pisa was once a proud and prosperous city, flourishing in 
arts and arms and literature, with a university second only 
to that of Padua. But her wealth has made to itself wings, 
and the prestige of her name is gone. We saw Austrian 
soldiers, at the railway station, riding through the throng to 
keep them in order ; and an inoffensive courier, who was en- 
deavoring to procure hilletti for his party, had his beaver 
cloven through from top to bottom with the sword, and nar- 
rowly escaped with his skull. 

But all this, and much more, with our own perilous adven- 
tures in the melange, and the midnight trip to Leghorn, and 
the morning walk to Smollet's tomb, and the subsequent 
return to Pisa and to Florence, are they not all written in 
" Reflected Fragments ?" 

And now, by vettura, with our genial friends, the Olmsteds, 
on our way to Bologna, we are climbing the piney Apennines. 
Soon we pass Pratolina, whose beauty, with that of its fair 
enchantress, Bianca Capella, is melodiously sung by Tasso. 
And here is the picturesque convent of Monte JSenarto, en- 
vironed with beautiful groves of cypress and cedar and laurel. 
Then we reached the loftiest point in the route, an altitude 
of more than three thousand feet, where the road traverses 
for some distance a narrow ridge, with a steep descent into a 
deep glen on either side, and a fine view of the mountains 
in every direction, the blue line of the Adriatic on the eastern 
horizon, and the vast plain of Lombardy to the north, 
bounded by the dim wall of the Alps. 

"We found our first night's lodging at Covigliajo, a soli- 
tary inn, picturesquely seated on the side of Monte Bene. 
This Monte Bene is a jagged mass of serpentine, thrust up 
through the shattered superincumbent strata. The stone is 
exceedingly beautiful, and full of large and lustrous crys- 
tals. We wandered far up the acclivity, plucking flowers, of 
which we found fifty-seven varieties in an hour's walk ; and 



426 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

then descended into the sweetest of valleys, charmed by the 
call of the cuckoo and the song of the rosignuolo from the 
fragrant copses. This inn is much better provided than for- 
merly with conveniences for the travelling public, through a 
benevolent freak of the Czarina of Russia; who, purposing 
to spend a night there, and aware of the wretchedness of the 
place, brought with her from Florence every thing necessary 
for her comfort, even to carpets, tables, and tea-service ; all 
of which, on the morrow, as she departed, she bequeathed to 
the host. We knew not then, or I fear we should not have 
slept so quietly, that this was the very establishment of 
which Forsyth tells so horrible a tale. Travellers arrived, 
departed, disappeared, and were never heard of more. What 
became of them could not be discovered. Officers were sent 
to search the mountains for banditti. But the real mis- 
creants were for a long time unsuspected : the padrona, the 
cameriere, and the curate of a neighboring village. They 
secretly murdered every traveller that had money, jewels, or 
other valuables; and burned his clothes, carriage, or what- 
ever else might lead to their detection. Detected at length 
they were, however, and their punishment was as prompt 
and terrible as it was just. 

As we departed the next morning, we passed a miniature 
volcano, an emission of carburetted hydrogen gas from the 
side of the mountain burning perpetually, with a bluish 
flame by day, and a brilliant red by night. 

Having paid liberally for our entertainment, and knowing 
that we were soon to cross the papal frontier, we pocketed the 
remnants of our collazione for the poveri infelice we might 
chance to meet with on our way. In a very short time we 
reentered the dominions of His Holiness, and immediately 
saw and felt the difference. The people flocked out of the 
villages to meet us, and awaited our approach at the ascent 
of every hill. One poor creature followed us a long distance, 



HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 427 

crying, " Do, dear ladies, give me a little money ! Excel- 
lent and illustrious gentlemen, do have compassion upon my 
. poverty I" And then she promised to say a whole string of 
beads for every one of us, and invoked for us the blessing of 
all the saints, and the company of all the good angels, in our 
journey. And when we gave her nothing, she renewed her 
entreaty, conjuring us by the name of the Virgin and her 
Blessed Son, by the love of God and the holy sacrament, till 
sundry small coin stopped her importunity. I counted thir- 
teen children at once, running along by the vettura, all 
clamoring for piccola moneta. We gave them bread, and 
cheese, and chicken, and boiled eggs, which they devoured 
with great avidity. These poor people live chiefly on chest- 
nuts, which they grind, and bake into bread; and the seed 
of the stone-pine, which is by no means so despicable a diet 
as one might imagine, especially with the addition of a little 
polenta. 

A woman, who was on her way to the harvest-field, told 
us that she labored all day, at making hay or cutting wheat, 
for cinque bajocchi — five cents, or a pound and a half of bread. 
But what do you do, said I, when there is no hay to make 
or wheat to cut ? " We plait straw for bonnets," was her 
reply. And do you never get any better wages ? " Never 
any better." Have you a family to support ? " No husband, 
but four children." And do you find it easy to feed four 
children on five bajocchi a day? "Ah, Signore" — with a 
mournful shake of the head — " it is very hard for us down 
here ; but up there" — pointing to the sky — " we shall be in 
glory." Why do you hope so ? " I ask Maria Santissima 
to speak to her Son for me." Alas for the Italian poor ! 

for words to describe the scenery of the Apennines ! 
There is no end to its variety : now bleak, and bare, and 
rugged as Vesuvius ; then softly beautiful, or wildly luxu- 
riant, beyond all power of language to express. Here the 



428 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

road winds among crags and precipices, crowned with dis- 
mantled fortresses and ruined castles, skirted with dark pine 
forests, and opening into gulfs of Tartarean gloom ; and anon . 
come such glimpses of paradise, such sunny vales, and vine- 
clad hills, and flowery pastures, and fields of golden grain, 
with villas peeping out through their avenues of ilex, and con- 
vents overlooking their hedges of laurel and cedar ! It grew 
more and still more lovely, as we descended into the valley 
of Savena ; the land everywhere cultivated like a garden; 
the silver foliage of the olive-groves contrasting beautifully 
with the luxuriant fields of wheat ; long lines of mulberry, 
with an interminable traillage of vines flung from tree to 
tree; hamlets, and villas, and churches, and monasteries,, 
multiplying along our way, till the country became almost 
a continuous city. 

Another night, and then the slender campaniles of Bologna 
broke upon our view — Bologna, famous for its leaning 
towers, its arcaded streets, its university, and its sausages. 
We spent three days here ; and saw our old friend Pio 
Nono, who had come to bless his children, and be publicly 
crowned in the cathedral ; but all the previous night, as our 
Italian courier informed us, his children were cursing him 
in undertones through the city, because he had granted no 
manumission to their friends, who had lain nine years untried 
in their dungeons. 

Still northward, over the plains of Lombardy. A night at 
Ferrara, a walk through its grass-grown streets, and a visit 
to "II Prigione di Torquato Tasso." The dreary cell in 
which the poet languished seven years and one month is not 
more than ten feet square. Byron, Rogers, Dickens, and 
many others, have scratched their names upon the wall. 
These three needed no connection with Tasso to give them 
immortality. In the centre of this dilapidated and half- 
ruined city stands an ugly brick fortress, misnamed a palace, 



HTJRRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 429 

surrounded by a broad fosse, with draw-bridges. Here Al- 
phonso feasted, while poor Tasso pined in his dungeon. 

"But time at length brings all things even," 

and amply has posterity avenged the poet of his persecutor. 

The next night we lodged at Padua — the ancient, the 
learned, the sombre — founded, it is said, by Trojan Antenor, 
wbose remains — smile not thus bitterly, incredulous 
reader — were exhumed in the thirteenth century > and can 
still be seen for a few grazie in the church of San Lorenzo. 
And here is the church of Santf Antonio, crowned with eight 
cupolas, besides minarets and campaniles — a gorgeous Oriental 
structure. And here is the university, formerly the first in 
Italy ; where the great Baldus taught " The Written Reason ;" 
and where the beautiful maiden, Helena Lucrezia Carnaro 
Piscopia, Doctor of Philosophy, learned in many languages, 
wearing the Benedictine habit, lectured on theology, astro- 
nomy, and mathematics, and sang her own verses to her 
own music. 

Hence to Venice is only twenty-seven miles ) and the next 
morning its domes and towers and palaces, all gilded by the 
sun, rise glittering before us, like a gorgeous exhalation 
from the bosom of the sea. I pray thee, charitable reader, 
deem not mogliama totally dementate, when I tell thee, as 
thou shalt also learn in her "Reflected Fragments," that the 
sole motive of this second visit to Venice was the gratifica- 
tion of her desire to see Titian's Pietro Martire, which she 
had missed when we were here before. We spent two days, 
and saw the picture, and agreed with Mrs. Jameson, that it 
is "one of the most magical in the world" — "its terrific 
horrors redeemed by its sublimity." It is in the church of 
San Giovanni e Paolo, where the Doges are buried, and 
where we saw also a charming series of bas-reliefs in white 
marble. Again we strolled through tbe grand old Palazzo 



430 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Ducale, and among the four hundred columns of San Marco. 
We visited many other churches, rich in paintings, statuary, 
many-colored marble, and all the luxuries of architectural 
magnificence. It is amazing to see with what prodigality 
the most splendid and costly materials arc lavished upon 
these buildings — columns of Egyptian porphyry; altars of 
Oriental alabaster; pulpits of verd-antique and pavanazzetto ; 
shrines and tombs of snowy marble, glittering with gems 
and gold ; walls and ceilings encrusted with agate and jasper, 
inlaid with lapis-lazuli ; and pavements of elegant mosaic 
work, elaborately disposed in the most curious patterns; 

Solemn and strange is the silence of this great city. No 
rumbling of carriages shakes the buildings ; no tramp of . 
horses echoes along the streets. You hear only the hum of 
human voices, the melancholy cry of the gondolier, and the 
measured dip of his oar, with the sighing of the watei"s along 
the basements of lofty palaces, the soft chiming of bells at 
the hour of Ave Maria, or a band of music by moonlight 
upon the Grand Canal. When we took our departure, we 
were prepared, I think, to appreciate the old Italian pro- 
verb : 

Venezia, Venezia! 
Chi non ti vede, non ti prezia ; 
Ma chi t'ha troppo veduto, 

Ti disprezia. 
Literally : 

Venice, Venice ! 
He that doth not see thee doth not prize thee ; 
But he that hath too much seen thee, 

Doth despise thee. 

And now for the Alps: repassing scholastic Padua; then 
Vicenza, the native city of Palladio ; and Verona, with 
its serrated walls, and slender towers, and antique amphi- 
theatre ; and the lovely Lago di Garda, with towns and 



IIURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 431 

villages smiling along its margin ; and Brescia, of which I 
know nothing; and Cocaglio and Treviglio, of which I know 
nothing that I would not gladly forget; and Milano once 
more, with its gorgeous marble toy ; and the waters of Como, 
too beautiful for words ; and the neighboring • Lugano, 
locked in the embrace of "the everlasting hills;" and 
Varesa, with its wondrous Madonna del Monte; and Mag- 
giore, with its magical islands, and colossal statue of San 
Carlo Borromeo ; and Domo d' Ossola, where we spent so 
pleasant a Sabbath, and were treated so politely by the Ret- 
tori of the Calvary and the College ; — scenes daguerreotyped 
eternally upon my soul ! 

In the picturesque, what country on earth can vie with 
Italy ? You meet with it everywhere, at all seasons, in every 
variety of form ; shedding a charm around the commonest 
objects, beautifying the humblest scenes of social life, and 
giving an indescribable poetic interest to city and hamlet, 
to mountain, valley, grove, and stream. Towns climbing the 
conical hills ; convents crowning the great pyramids of 
nature; ruined temples looking down from their ancient 
precipices; pretty villas embowered in evergreens, with 
slender cypresses, and long arcades of ilex; fragrant gardens, 
with fountains and statues interspersed among luxuriant 
plants and shrubbery, and winding walks between walls of 
living verdure; the golden orange and the gorgeous pome- 
granate, canopied with the silvery foliage of the olive ; the 
stone-pine, lifting its broad parasol over the mountains ; the 
wagon reeling with its load of purple clusters, beneath the 
far-reaching festoons of the vine; the jessamine and the 
honeysuckle wreathing the fruitful fig-tree with beauty; the 
swelling dome and soaring campanile peering over every 
green and flowery hill ; the peasant, with a bunch of roses in 
his hat, singing to his guitar, as he saunters along the way; 



432 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the shepherd knitting a gray stocking as he marches in the 
van of his flock, while his faithful dog brings up the rear ; 
the pretty contadina, with her white veil, yellow sleeves, 
and scarlet petticoat, wielding the distaff at the door of her 
father's cottage ; seas and bays and lakes of the purest azure, 
overarched with the softest skies, and kindling with the 
most gorgeous sunset glories ; — this is what I call the pic- 
turesque — a word which, I frankly confess with Mrs. Jame- 
son, I never fully understood till I went to Italy. And 
now — 

" Once more among the old gigantic hills, 

With vapors clouded o'er; 
The vales of Lombardy grow dim behind, 

And rocks ascend before. 
They beckon me — the giants — from afar, 

They wing my footsteps on; 
Their helms of ice, their plumage of the pine, 

Their cuirasses of stone." 

Imagine me, prosaic reader, after six months spent in 
Italy, with my back at length on all her beauties, ascending 
the gloomy gorge of Glondo, crossing the torrents that descend 
from many a glacier, and pausing amid the snowy solitudes 
of the Simplon to look back upon the paradise of delights I 
have left behind me for ever. How can I help it ? Here 
goes impromptu : 

Farewell to the land of love and song! 

Farewell to the classic shore 1 . 
Through its fairy scenes I have wandered long, 

But never shall wander more. 

Farewell to the fields and the vineyards fair! 

Farewell to the sunny clime ! 
Where the valleys smile through the purple air, 

And the mountains frown sublime! 



HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 433 

Where the poet's dream, and the sage's lore, 
Have hallowed each stream and hill ; 

Where the mighty ruled o'er the world of yore, 
And their spirits are lingering still! 

Where the morning sheds from her dewy wings 

A shower of sweet perfume; 
And the Rosignuolo sits and sings 

In the ivy that robes the tomb ! 

As the light of a gentle lady's eyes, 

Was that beautiful land to me ; 
Enchanting the soul with its sapphire skies, 

And the sheen of its azure sea ! 

I have dreamed at noon in the myrtle bowers, 

And the silvery olive shade ; 
I have walked at eve o'er a path of flowers, 

Through the ilex colonnade. 

I have mused on many an ancient mound, 

O'er many a ruin gray; 
In the dismal galleries under ground, 

Where the martyrs met to pray. 

I have ranged through the aisles of temples fair, 

Bedizened with gems and gold ; 
With their marbles rich, and their relics rare, 

And their legends strange and old. 

And oft in the solemn crypt confined, 

I have lingered and mused alone, 
With the saints in their crystal coflins shrined, 

And their histories told in stone. 

And now adieu to the land of flowers, 

To her legendary lore, 
To her sacred arts, and her soaring towers — 

Adieu, and for evermore ! 
19 



434 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Nine miles we walk, in advance of our voiture, up the fine 
Simplon road, till we reach, the Hospice at the summit, 
where we pause to talk with the aged Rettore, and make the 
acquaintance of those noble dogs. I gaze up at the glitter- 
ing pinnacles around me, and an avalanche of inspiration 
sweeps me headlong into verse, as the avalanche of snow 
sweeps the traveller into the Saltine ! 

Hail to the everlasting hills ! 

Hail to the crystal Alps ! 
Where the heaven perpetual snow distils, 

Uprearing their hoary scalps ! 

Where the storm-king rides on his misty throne, 

And frets in his fiercest mood; 
And the gray-bearded winter sits alone, 

In eternal solitude ! 

Full many a torrent, glacier-born, 

Glides feathery o'er my way, 
To many a gulf where never morn 

Yet heralded the day. 

Full many a cataract of snow 

Hath left its desolate path, 
That down to the gloomy depth below 

Went thundering in its wrath. 

And the traveller looked to the mountain height, 
And he knew 'twas his hour of doom ; 

All vain was the prayer, and all vain the flight, 
For the avalanche was his tomb! 

Brieg, Sion, the Vallais, and " the arrowy Rhone." At 
Martigny we abandon wheels and take to the donkey. O, 
that passage over the Forclaz ! Then the Tete Noir, with 
its forest of larches, thick as they can stand, and every 
trunk as straight as an arrow! In many places the moun- 
tain-side is clothed with flowers ; and far up, where no other 



HURRYGRAPHIC MISCELLANEA. 435 

growth is to be seen, the rhododendron flourishes in gay 
luxuriance. Here a cross is erected to mark the spot where, 
only a few months since, a luckless passenger perished in the 
snow ; and a little farther on, the place is pointed out where 
a party were swept away by an avalanche. A wild sublimity 
reigns around us. Huge fragments of rock lie scattered and 
piled on all sides, as if all the gods of the Iliad had made this 
their battle-ground for centuries. The eternal glaciers glit- 
ter among the jagged aiguilles that pierce the clouds, and 
feathery waterfalls leap apparently from the sky into fright- 
ful chasms beneath. Here is the Cascade Barbarine, 
formed by a stream which rushes down the mountain from a 
dizz}?- height, and then plunges a sheer precipice of four 
hundred feet. A little platform, built out over the water 
from a projecting rock, afforded us a view of marvellous 
beauty. The sun was at the meridian, shining in his 
utmost strength ; and beneath us lay a glorious horizon- 
tal iris, about three hundred feet in diameter — a complete 
circle, with the exception of the small arc covered by the 
platform. It was a sight for an angel's eye ! 

For some account of our further progress, and how it hap- 
pened that top much wine in the driver's brain upset our 
char-a-banc, and well-nigh hurled us down the precipice ; of 
our descent into the vale of Chamouni ; our introduction to 
" the Monarch of Mountains," his aspect, clouded and un- 
clouded ; the Brevent, the Flegere, the Montanvert, and the 
Aiguille de Dru ; and how we spent the Fourth of July, 
the scribe's birthday and the nation's, in wandering over 
the Mer de Glace and the Glacier de Bosson, and along their 
rugged borders; and how we were honored with the view of 
a glorious avalanche — an immense mass of snow rushing 
several thousand feet down the mountain-side, as if for our 
personal gratification; the enchantments of our trip to 
Geneva; a Sabbath in the city of Calvin; a sermon from 



436 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the patriarchal Dr. Malan; a meeting with friends whom we 
had known and loved at Rome : a steamboat excursion on the 
lake; Lausanne, Vevey, and the prison of Chillon ; Byron, 
Gribbon, Rousseau, Voltaire, Madame de Stael, and the 
sainted Fletcher, whose names are all linked with its ceru- 
lean waters ; the interesting panstereorama, which greatly 
helped our meagre comprehension of the Alpine Chorogra- 
phy, and verified the Scotchman's idea of Switzerland — that, 
small as it seems, it would be a pretty large country, if flat- 
tened out like Holland; — for this and much more, I must 
again refer the reader to " Reflected Fragments." 

Hence over the Jura, and down the Rhine, with many a 
pleasant incident; the castled Heidelberg, with its university 
and its duels ; Frankfort and Weimer, with their memorials 
of G-oethe and Schiller; Erfurt and Eisenach, with their 
memorials of a mightier than they; the sadly pleasing meet- 
ing at Dresden with one beloved, whom we had left there six 
months before ; the scribe's departure solus for his native 
land, where he sojourned four blessed months in Eden; our 
subsequent meeting in Paris, the happy days we spent there, 
the return to England, and "Paradise Regained;" — these 
likewise, all and singular, are among the same " Fragments" 
with due fidelity " Reflected." 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 437 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 

FORTY-NINTH COUSIN ILLUSTRIOUS ANCESTRY 'LAYING OF A FOUNDA- 
TION-STONE TEA-PA.RTY NUMBER ONE TEA-PARTY NUMBER TWO 

TEA-PARTY NUMBER THREE TEA-PARTY NUMBER FOUR — TEA-PARTY 

NUMBER FIVE TEA-PARTY NUMBER SIX TEA-PARTY NUMBER SEVEN 

TEA-PARTY NUMBER EIGHT ANECDOTE OF MR. SPURGEON. 

When first in London, by the merest accident — say 
rather by the most remarkable providence — I made the 
acquaintance of Dr. Robert Cross, a pious man, a profound 
scholar, a successful author, a popular lecturer, an eminent 
physician, a distinguished philanthropist, and in all respects 
worthy of his name, and of the right hand of fellowship 
which I gave him. He promptly claimed a relationship — 
that of forty-ninth cousin, or some other; and cordially 
offered me the hospitalities of his house when I should 
return from the continent ; which, of course, I was not 
uncivil enough to decline. And now congratulate me, O 
generous reader, on my arrival and reception at No. 20 New 
street, Spring Gardens, just on the corner of St. James's 
Park, with a fine outlook upon Westminster Abbey, and 
within a stone's throw of Trafalgar Square — the occupant of 
better quarters than often fall to the lot of my profession, 
and the guest of one of the worthiest families to be found 
without the gates of Eden. Dr. Cross is an elder in Dr. 
Cumming's church; and Mrs. Cross is the Dorcas of the 



438 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

same — yea, also, the Martha and the Mary. The Doetor 
told me more of my ancestry than I ever knew before; gave 
me, somewhat in detail, the pedigree of the family; the 
chief facts of which — a few mountain summits peering 
through the mists of antiquity — I here record for the edifi- 
cation of the reader's reverence for his author. 

The first of the name, of whom any thing is certainly 
known, was one Odo Saint Croix, a monk and crusader in 
the battalions of Richard Coeur de Lion, in the latter part 
of the twelfth century. The biographer of our illustrious 
relation, the late Dr. Andrew Crosse, the famous chemist 
and electrician, of Somersetshire, speaks of an Odo de 
Santa Croce, a Norman thane, or nobleman, who accompa- 
nied William the Conqueror into Britain, something more 
than a hundred years earlier than the period I have men- 
tioned. This Odo may have been the great-grandfather, or 
the sublime great-grandfather of our crusading Odo. Be 
that as it may — and my utmost ambition finds its goal in the 
latter — it is a fact pretty well authenticated, that at the 
siege of Ascalon this immortal monk led the forlorn hope of 
a disastrous day, and planted the banner of the cross upon 
the heights of the citadel. For this heroic act he was 
promptly knighted by his sovereign. The crest conferred 
upon him was a crane — the sacred bird of the East — bear- 
ing a cross in its beak. The following beautiful sentence he 
chose for his motto : "Crucedum spiro Jido." The figures 
on his shield were identical with those of the Knights 
Templars; to which order, therefore, our redoubtable monk 
must have belonged.* The honor of knighthood not being 
hereditary, the title expired with its possessor. But some 
time afterward the family was ennobled with the title of 
Baron Upton ; and subsequently with that of Earl of Lex- 

* See the Vignette. 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 439 

ington ; which was forfeited during the civil wars by being 
found on the wrong side in politics. A descendant, who 
had served with distinction in the Peninsular War, and was 
one of the officers who, under Lord Beresford, assisted in 
organizing the Portuguese army, was created a Knight of 
the Tower and Sword of Portugal. Having had a taste of 
glory, he subsequently conceived the idea of reviving the 
ancient family title. With this view, he spent a whole 
year tracing out his pedigree at the British Museum and 
elsewhere. Having a considerable claim upon government 
for service rendered, he prosecuted his researches with 
ardor, and was very sanguine of success, till he found a 
branch of the original stock older than that to which he 
belonged, when he very prudently dropped the enterprise. 
Of this older branch Dr. Robert Cross is the oldest son, and, 
therefore, the person properly entitled to the enviable dis- 
tinction aforesaid. He, however, is a perfect Grallio in the 
matter; deeming the honor scarcely worth the trouble of its 
acquisition. The revival of a former title is always attended 
with difficulty, and seldom will Parliament entertain a pro- 
position for the purpose, except in case of some very distin- 
guished service to the Crown. On this account, with others 
which I will not name, I intend quietly to pursue my lite- 
rary avocation, in imitation of the unambitious but success- 
ful Lord Macaulay; depending for my future honors less 
upon any hereditary claim than upon the popularity of this 
my European itinerary. Meanwhile, humble and democratic 
reader, respect thy author, who from the forementioned 
illustrious Odo Saint Croix, if not from his sublime great- 
grandfather, Odo de Santa Crocc, is most indubitably 
descended ; and that by a very stupendous scale — my grand- 
father a pedagogue, my father a carpenter, and myself a 
Methodist preacher ! And it is surely something consola- 
tory, in the absence of all other hereditary emoluments, to 



440 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

know that " nry father's house/' though " small in Israel/' 
had a titled ancestry, possessing sundry broad acres in the 
neighborhood of Brent Knoll, and scouring the surrounding 
plains with packs of yelping hounds, long before Monmouth 
led his forces through " Brentinarsh" to the fatal field of 
Sedgeinoor. And it is not a little edifying to one's com- 
fortable estimate of himself, after having lain more than 
thirty years under the levelling despotism of this odious 
democracy, to trace the several streams of his ancestral 
aristocracy up to their common source in the mighty Odo ; 
and to find the identical coat-of-arms worn by him still 
retained in all the three branches of the family extant — in 
Somersetshire, in Herefordshire, and in Nottinghamshire ; 
to one or another of which three branches every " forked 
radish" surnamed Cross, whether on this or that side of the 
Atlantic, doth beyond all controversy belong. 

Soon after rny arrival, I was informed that the corner- 
stone of a new Wesleyan chapel was to be laid that very day 
at Acton, six miles out of the city. I thought this would 
be a good opportunity to see something of the spirit of Eng- 
lish Methodism. But how should I get there in time ? for 
it was now half-past one, and the service was advertised to 
commence at two. My forty-ninth cousin suggested that a 
Hansom's cab and double fee to the driver would do it. 
Whoever wants a pleasant and rapid ride in England should 
patronize Hansom's Patent Safety; and he who,, upon expe- 
riment, does not thank me for the advice, is nothing better 
than an ill-conditioned Vandal. Jehu, son of Nimshi ! with 
what a rush we went ! and with what an air of exquisite 
satisfaction the driver touched his cap as he pocketed his 
six shillings sterling ! 

I reached the spot just as the assembly commenced sing- 
ing; and with much difficulty elbowed my way through the 
outer circles of the throne;, and obtained a stand where I 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 441 

could see and hear. After the hymn, and an excellent 
prayer by the superintendent of the circuit, the Rev. Mr. 
Wiseman — not the Cardinal, but a much wiser man — de- 
livered a very happy address. He reviewed the history of 
Methodism, recounted the toils and sufferings of its sainted 
heroes, and praised the zeal and liberality of Thomas Farmer, 
Esq., to whom this circuit, and particularly this society, 
were so much indebted for their pecuniary prosperity. Then 
a fine silver trowel, with a long commendatory inscription 
upon it, was presented to the good old man • who, after a 
nice little speech in reply, with this beautiful instrument 
proceeded to enact the mason, plentifully interspersing the 
performance with pleasant little speeches, which the mul- 
titude applauded right lustily. This ended, he invited all 
present to repair to his park near by, and partake of a 
repast which he had provided; and then the assembly was 
dismissed with the doxology and the benediction. 

This was my opportunity for delivering to Mr. Farmer a 
letter of introduction which I bore from Dr. Taylor, our late 
missionary to China. Of course, I got a special invitation 
to the park, and was honored with one of the chief places 
at the feast. Seven hundred persons, or more, gathered 
around the table. The first thing done was the singing of 
grace by the whole company standing : 

" Be present at our table, Lord ; 
Be here and everywhere adored ; 
These creatures bless, and grant that we 
May feast in Paradise with thee." 

After a plentiful refreshment, and abundance of pleasant 
chat, all arose, and returned thanks, to the tune of Old 
Hundred, in the following words : 

"We thank thee, Lord, for this our food; 
But more than all for Jesus' blood : 

19* 



442 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Let manna to our souls be given, 

The bread of life sent down from heaven." 

Then Mr. Milburn delivered a long address on the Early- 
Methodist Preachers in America — substantially one of the 
series of lectures to which thousands lately listened with so 
much delight on our side of the Atlantic. It was evidently 
new to an English audience, and touched the people at a 
hundred points. They laughed and wept by turns, and 
occasionally cheered vociferously. Having alluded to his 
American brother, who was present, the writer was requested 
to follow " the Blind Orator." I promptly gave them proof 
that I was not unwilling to " speak in meeting," and assured ■ 
them that I should be ready to respond to all subsequent 
calls of the kind so long as I might remain in London, and 
perhaps it might be wise in them on some future occasion to 
make me the chief speaker. They understood the hint, and 
I understood their policy, and knew very well what amount 
of courtesy to expect. 

It was good to be there. I had often heard of the Wes- 
leyan tea-parties, and very much desired to witness the phe- 
nomenon. It is interesting to see with what a hearty good 
will our British brethren engage in such Christian merry- 
making. Verily, the half was not told me. It was pleasant 
also to meet my friend Mr. Harper, who was in company 
with Mr. Milburn; and to make the acquaintance of the 
author of the Successful Merchant and the Tongue of Fire, 
just returned in improved health from his sojourn in the 
East. So much for Tea-Party Number One. 

Tea-Party Number Two was not less interesting, though 
very different. Having accidentally become acquainted with 
the Dean of Westminster, I was invited to spend an evening 
at his residence in the Abbey. The company consisted 
chiefly of clergymen — a dozen or more of the most distin- 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 443 

guished in the metropolis, including two of the canons of St. 
Paul's, and as many ladies. It was a very pleasant reunion; 
and, after it was over, I returned to the house of my forty- 
ninth cousin, thoroughly convinced that the English ladies 
and gentlemen — I use the terms in their proper sense — are 
the most agreeable people in the world. I never felt more 
at home in any society, and never enjoyed a three hours' 
chit-chat with a goodlier zest. The Dean is a quiet, humble, 
unobtrusive, and exceedingly amiable man ; and his wife is 
one of the loveliest of womankind. Through the kind offices 
of Dean Trench, I received the next day a note from the 
Earl of Shaftesbury, enclosing a ticket to admit me to the 
House of Lords, where I heard Lord Brougham for an hour. 
The British Demosthenes is not what he once was, though 
he still has much energy, occasionally kindles with a genial 
warmth, and is listened to with the most profound respect. 

Tea-Party Number Three was a Conversazione of the Na- 
tional Club, to which I was admitted on the recommendation 
of my forty-ninth cousin, who is a member. The subject 
of the evening was the Dwellings of the Poor, and their Im- 
provement. Lord Shaftesbury was in the chair, and opened 
the discussion in an admirable Christian speech. The Rt. 
Rev. Robert Bickersteth, Lord Bishop of Ripon, followed with 
a series of facts and arguments which I wish all the philan- 
thropy of England could have heard. Then there were 
remarks by the Rev. C Champney, canon of St. Paul's; by 
the Rev. Mr. Marsden, of Birmingham ; by Lord Charles 
Russell, brother of Lord John; by the Hon. William Cowper, 
the Hon. Arthur Kinnaird, Sir Brook Bridges, Doctor Dick- 
son, and several more. Much interesting information was 
elicited, many frightfully graphic pictures were drawn of the 
condition of the poor in their homes, and the speakers 
seemed to be deeply concerned for their social and moral im- 
provement. What would an American think of a whole 



444 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

family — father, mother, and seven children — living in a room 
eight feet square, without bed, chair, stool, or table ? What 
think you, benevolent reader, of three families in a room 
eight by ten ? what of their comfort ? what of their morals ? 
How can they possibly be Christians ? And the speakers 
argued very logically that their homes must bo improved 
before their souls can be saved. I afterwards went with my 
forty-ninth cousin, in his charitable rounds, into many of 
these dens of filth and crime; and from such scenes into 
some of the Model Lodging-Houses, established through the 
energetic labors of Lord Shaftesbury. It is a refreshing 
contrast. 

Very different still was Tea-Party Number Four — em- 
phatically u the feast of reason and the flow of soul" — to 
wit, a meeting in behalf of the Crown Court Ragged Schools. 
Lord Alfred Paget was in the chair — a young man, formerly 
devoted to sporting, who has lately, under the ministry 
of Dr. Cumming, turned his attention to religion ; and is just 
beginning, in good earnest, to labor in the vineyard of the 
Lord. The Bishop of Ripon was advertised as one of the 
speakers, but did not make his appearance. Mr. Milburn's 
name also, through my officiousness, was in the programme; 
but he left the city a day or two before, and was then in 
Liverpool. As your scribe was an "American" — albeit an 
" English American" — it fell to his lot to deliver the first 
address. Mr. McGregor, a distinguished barrister of Temple 
Bar, followed with an admirable speech. The facetious Mr. 
Payne, also a barrister, kept the house in a perfect uproar 
for thirty minutes with his anecdotes and original poetry. I 
wish I could describe his speech to the American reader, it 
was so remarkable an instance of the freedom and the fun of 
the British platform. After reciting, by way of proem, 
some twenty verses which he had composed for the occasion, 
the most unique I ever heard, he proceeded to characterize 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 445 

the work of the society in the following string of proposi- 
tions : 

"I. It is a Good and Great "Work, 

"II. A Love and Hate Work, 

" III. A Pray and Wait Work, 

"IV. An Early and Late Work, 

"V. A No Debate Work, and 

"VI. An Excellent Fate Work;" 

each of which he sustained and illustrated, logically and 
theologically, by short arguments and striking anecdotes, 
with snatches of the queerest original poetry ever manufac- 
tured by mortal man. There is no platform speaker in 
London more popular than this same Counsellor Payne. 
Then the Rev. Dr. Cumming brought up the rear in his own 
peculiar manner. I think he is one of the happiest declaim- 
ers I ever heard. On the whole, it was a very pleasant tea- 
party, and resulted in pecuniary profit to the cause. The 
Ragged School movement is a noble charity, and is effecting 
incalculable good for the poor children of the metropolis; 
and not for them alone, but also for their fathers and 
mothers, and for society at large. 

Tea-Party Number Five was a tea-party " in deed and in 
truth;" ay, and a dinner-party, too; and it would have done 
both your soul and body good, benevolent reader, to have 
been there. The "Lord Mayor of London Town" — not he 
of the feline fame, Mr. Richard Whittington — had invited 
the Ragged School Shoe-blacks to an entertainment at his 
country-seat. At eight o'clock in the morning, the jolly 
little fellows met at their several stations, and marched to 
the railroad, where an excursion train awaited them. It was 
a pleasant sight — six hundred boys under fourteen years of 
age, all rescued from ruin, most of them having been street- 
beggars or pickpockets, with the officers and friends of the 



446 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

society, marching to their own music, and bearing the 
banners of their redemption ; and it was delightful to hear 
the comments and commendations of gentlemen and ladies, 
as they met the procession, and paused to gaze after it, often 
with tearful eyes, as it wound along the narrow street. 
There were six " brigades/' all dressed in jerseys of different 
colors, and called the Red, the Blue, the G-reen, the Brown, 
the Purple, and the Yellow. Now and then, as one of their 
chief patrons made his appearance, and fell into the train, 
they would raise such a merry shout as might gladden the 
heart of any philanthropist in Christendom. Eight miles 
upon the railroad, and we were at Wanstead Park. The 
Lord Mayor and his lady came by, in a gay carriage — the" 
verv fac-simile of "Dick Whittington's" as you have seen it 
in nursery pictures — with gaudily-attired postilions and out- 
riders. A roll upon the drums, and three hearty cheers, 
made the oaks and firs vibrate with joy. "That will do!" 
cries the marshal of the clay. " Three times three for the 
Lord Mayor !" sings out the little fellow with the banner in 
the van of the Blue brigade. And three times three they 
gave, and their clear young voices rang through the grove — 
the prelude of a joyful future. Arrived on the ground, they 
are arranged in a circle, and seated on the grass. The Lord 
Mayor steps into the centre, takes off his hat, and opens his 
mouth to speak; but before he has said "Boys/' "Hurrah 
for the Lord Mayor !" over and over again, shout the whole 
six hundred. " Boys, I am glad to see you here" — says the 
Lord Mayor, as soon as he can be heard — "you are welcome 
to my grounds !" " Thankee, sir ! Thankee, sir ! Glad to 
see you too, sir ! Welcome here yourself, sir !" reply the 
whole company from the bottom of their lungs ; and then, 
"Hurrah for the Lord Mayor !" rings along the line again 
for a minute or two ; he meanwhile waiting for an opportu- 
nity to continue his speech. He resumes : " You may go 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 447 

where you like, and amuse yourselves as you please; only 
don't get over the fences, or into the water, or so far away 
that you can't hear the dinner-bell. There are plenty of 
rabbits, and you may have as many as ever you can catch ; 
but be sure to come back when you hear the bell, about one 
o'clock." " Thankee, sir ! Hurrah for the Lord Mayor !" 
and six hundred caps are thrown up into the sunshine. 
Then away they scamper over the blossoming fields; and such 
fun and frolic, I dare say, they never enjoyed before. Their 
friend Mr. McGregor was the youngest boy among them ; 
and could run faster, and laugh louder, and kick the foot- 
ball farther, than any of his playfellows. And this is the 
eminent barrister, who holds public disputes every Sabbath 
with the infidels in the Park, and discourses for hours 
together to the assembled thousands on the great matter of 
their salvation. He is a layman of the Established Church, 
always "ready unto every good work." When such men as 
he, aud Lord Shaftesbury, and the Bishop of Ripon, are 
seen engaging in these Christian enterprises with so much 
zeal and energy, one cannot help feeling that there is still 
salt in the Church, aud hope for the nation. 

One o'clock; the bell rings; the table is thronged ; the 
Mayor's chaplain says grace; lords and ladies wait upon the 
little guests ; and such a packing away of roast beef and 
plum-pudding I never saw before. I heard many a little 
rogue declare that he had never made such a dinner before 
in his life. I went around the table, talking with the boys. 
Some of them told me they had three pounds in the savings' 
bank; others six; and one nine. After dinner, the Mayor 
and Lord Shaftesbury both addressed the boys, and the 
cheering was more vociferous than ever. Through his chap- 
lain, I was introduced to the Lord Mayor, and received an 
invitation to dine with the clergy in the mansion. More 



448 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

than fifty persons sat down to a sumptuous table. The 
speaking was renewed by Lord Shaftesbury in a noble ad- 
dress to the Lord Mayor. He reviewed the several reforma- 
tory measures instituted within the last few years in London, 
especially the Ragged-schools and the Shoe-blacks Societies. 
He stated that in the year 1851, forty-seven thousand cases 
of disorderly conduct were brought before the Lord Mayor : 
within the last twelve months, not more than twenty-two 
thousand. The Lord Mayor replied in a very happy manner, 
and we arose from the table refreshed in body and in soul. 
The boys had resumed their sports, and I spent the after- 
noon in making new acquaintances, and improving them, 
chiefly among the clergy of the Church of England. A Mr. 
Cadman, who is one of the most popular and useful men in 
London, and the Chaplain of the Lord Mayor, were particu- 
larly kind and agreeable. The reverends present seemed to 
be all of the evangelical class, and I believe there is scarcely 
a nobler body of Christian ministers in the world. The piety 
and catholicity of their spirit appeared very different from 
what I have generally found among the Protestant Episcopal 
clergy of our own country. The accounts which I constantly 
heard, and the instances which I constantly saw, of the zeal 
and self-denial of some of them, made me quite ashamed of 
myself, and of many of my brethren at home. Depend upon 
it, there is a great revival going on in the ministry of the 
Establishment. They " go into the highways and hedges" 
to preach the gospel, and they preach it often with a refresh- 
ing unction. It is a common thing for a rector to preach 
two sermons of a Sabbath in his pulpit, and a third in the 
open air. Outdoor preaching, indeed, is now quite a mania 
in England ; and men of the first position in the Church 
have taken the field; and the new Lord Bishop of London 
himself, who is an eminently evangelical man, sanctions and 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 449 

encourages the movement. It is Wesley and Whitefield over 
again. I repeat it : There is still salt in the Church; there 
is still hope for the nation I 

At five the bell rang again ; the boys returned to the table 
for tea; the dinner scenes, with sundry variations, were 
reenacted ; and the setting sun found the jolly little shoe- 
blacks recounting the deeds of the day in their own humble 
abodes; and your faithful scribe, dear reader, a better and 
happier man than when he went forth in the morning, sitting 
in an upper room, at Number Twenty, New Street, Spring 
G-ardens, making memoranda of his Fifth Metropolitan Tea- 
party. 

The Sixth, if possible still more interesting, was the 
"Autumn Festival of the Young Men's Mutual Improve- 
ment Society, of the Parish of St. Jude's •" which I attended 
by special invitation of the Rectox*, the Rev. Hugh Allen, in 
company with his friend Mr. Carpenter, a benevolent Irish 
gentleman, who showed me many kind attentions during my 
sojourn in London. Entering a narrow court, filled with all 
sorts of people, we soon came to a very large building of 
very rough exterior, crowded to its utmost capacity. On the 
door was this advertisement : 

"ADMITTANCE : 

"Before Tea, One Shilling; 
After Tea, Sixpence." 

" Tickets, if you please, gentlemen !" said the porter, as we 
passed. " I'm their ticket !" cried a voice within. It was 
Hugh Allen. " Walk in, gentlemen !" he continued in a 
rapid, nervous manner, which instantly reminded me of 
"Father Taylor," of Boston: "Go up to the platform; 
Counsellor Payne will receive you; I'll be there directly." 
Up to the platform we went, passing between long lines of 
tables, loaded with substantial luxuries. Counsellor Payne 



450 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

introduced us to half a dozen clergymen of the Establish- 
ment, and as many dissenting ministers, among whom was 
the Rev. Mr. Adams, of Salem Chapel, and an eloquent 
young man of Lady Huntingdon's connection. We were 
seated. " See him !" said the Counsellor, pointing to the 
Rector, who, with his hat on, was pushing hither and thither 
through the crowd, giving orders, arranging the seats, wel- 
coming every new-comer, talking like a cataract, and gesti- 
culating like an Italian. "No man in London/' rejoined 
Mr. L., " is doing more good at the present time than that 
same Hugh Allen. Six years ago, when he came to St. 
Jude's, this court was one of the most notorious places in 
the city, and the very house in which you are now sitting 
was a distillery. The proprietor wrote him a note, request- 
ing him not to organize a temperance society, or do any 
thing to break up his business, as the distillery was his 
only dependence for the support of his wife and children. 
' Better your wife and children should suffer hunger,' re- 
plied Hugh Allen, ' than souls should perish by your trade : 
I am responsible for duties, not for consequences : look to 
yourself, my friend !' He went to work in earnest. In 
three months every grog-shop in the neighborhood was 
abolished; and in as many more, he had a Sunday-school in 
the still-house. It would do you good, sir, to attend one of 
his ' Early Sunday Morning Breakfasts' in this room. You 
would see nearly three hundred young persons, male and 
female, sit down to eat and drink together; and after prayer 
and some advice from their pastor, disperse to their work as 
Sunday-school teachers. Bo you see that noble company of 
young men, sitting together there on the front bench ? 
There are about twenty-five, and they are all street-preachers ; 
yes, sir, what the Wesleyans call 'lay helpers.' Every Sab- 
bath they go out into the highways and hedges, wherever 
Mr. Allen sends them; and a good work they are doing, to 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 451 

be sure, sir! And then he has organized a Shoe -blacks' 
brigade, two or three ragged-schools, and a Reformed Pick- 
pockets' Society. There is no end, sir, to his activity. 
Why, sir, for the last fortnight, to my certain knowledge, he 
has preached every night; yes, sir, every single night!" 
And does he write his sermons ? said I. " no," he 
answered, u he never writes a sermon ; nor need he ; his 
head and heart are both full of sermons. He would die, if 
he could not preach !" 

This and much more. Then comes Hugh Allen to the 
platform, throws off his hat, calls the assembly to order, offers 
an appropriate prayer, makes a brief introductory address, 
in which he talks funnily of being " tied up," and compli- 
ments the " cleverality" of his young men, and tells the 
audience he has " a lion and a unicorn" for their entertain- 
ment, alluding to the Counsellor and the Scribe, who sat on 
his right and left. Then he called on his "American friend" 
for a speech ; and to keep the bashful young man in counte- 
nance before so large an assembly, shouted at the end of 
every sentence, " Hear him ! Hear him !" Counsellor 
Payne, meanwhile, sat busily writing on the crown of his 
hat ; and, when I ceased, in response to the call of the Rev. 
President sprang to his feet, and delivered himself of the 
drollest harangue ever uttered by the drollest of orators. " I 
have come to this place to-night," said he, "to see — 

" I. A Preacher remarkable for four things : 

A preacher that does not mumble, 
A preacher that does not grumble, 
A preacher that does not stumble, 
A preacher both proud and humble: 

" II. An Association of Young Men remarkable for four 
things : 



452 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Young men with their heads unfuddled, 
Young men with their minds unmuddled, 
Young men with their hearts untroubled, 
Young men with their comforts doubled." 

These were the divisions and subdivisions of his discourse, 
the form of which he justified by the presence of such a 
number of divines. The flesh with which he covered his 
skeleton fitted the bones most admirably ; and the queer fan- 
tastic biped lived and glowed before us, and went singing 
and dancing through the hearts of the people, and jingling 
his eight toes in the merriest manner imaginable. And 
here is the orator's conclusion, composed while his " Yankee 
Brother" was speaking : 

" Doctor Cross and Counsellor Payne, 
The one from a city across the main, 
The other of that which is England's pride, 
Are seated at good Hugh Allen's side. 

"Doctor Cross is a clever man; 
He smiles upon every useful plan; 
His talents, I reckon and guess, are great; 
And he's always ready, I calculate. 

" Counsellor Payne and Doctor Cross 
Would surely have suffered a grievous loss, 
Had they not been here to-night to see 
St. Jude's young men's ' clever -alily.' 

"Doctor Cross and Counsellor Payne 
Will be happy, some day, to come again; 
And see Hugh Allen, and cheer him on, 
And add to the praise he has rightly won. 

"Counsellor Payne and Doctor Cross 
Would the claims of the Treasurer now endorse; 
And bid you give him the aid he needs, 
And follow the course he so nobly leads. 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 453 

"Doctor Cross and Counsellor Payne 
Are both 'tied up' to a little strain; 
For time is short, and they can but say, 
Success to the friends who are here to-day ! 

" Success to the President, brave and bold! 
Success to the Officers, new and old ! 
Success to the Young Men, good and true ! 
And success to the fair Young Women too !" 

The above is verbatim et literatim, from a copy sent me 
the nest day by the orator, upon my solicitation. I mention 
these things in illustration of the freedom of the platform 
among our British brethren. In the pulpit, such is my 
opinion, we excel them ; but on occasions like these, they 
are unquestionably our superiors. They do not make speeches : 
they speak. 

Mr. Payne was followed by several clergymen ; and the 
clergymen, by several of the young men of the society; and 
the young men, by chickens, and turkeys, and lobsters, and 
oysters, and salads, and puddings, and jellies, and custards, 
and ice-creams, and all manner of fruits, and whatsoever 
edifieth the physical man ; and then, with a hymn, a prayer, 
and a benediction, we parted, to meet again, I hope, at " the 
supper of the Lamb I" 

My next Tea-Party was a dinner at the Old Bailey, with the 
judges and advocates, the sheriff and under-sheriffs, the 
Rev. Ordinary of Newgate, and several other persons of dis- 
tinction, after sitting some hours in the court, and wander- 
ing through the cells of the prison. I dismiss this occasion 
with the following memoranda : 

1. We sat nearly four hours at the table. 

2. Among so many great men, I saw very little wit or 
wisdom. 

3. The five clergymen present appeared to drink as much 
wine as any other five of the company. 



454 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

4. One of them pronounced sudden conversion an absurd- 
ity, and the joy of faith in the hour of death nothing but 
a delirium. 

5. I could not help contrasting this scene with what I had 
witnessed at the Lord's Mayor's table at Wansted Park, and 
more than once I wished myself again at Hugh Allen's 
Distillery. 

I will mention but one Tea-Party more — a supper at the 
house of my excellent forty-ninth cousin, in honor of his 
forty-sixth birthday, which was celebrated by the family, with 
a goodly concourse of kinsfolk, after the manner of the good 
old times. There was present an interesting young man, a 
licentiate in Mr. Spurgeon's church, who gave me, among 
others, the following anecdote of that popular young min- 
ister : 

Mr. Spurgeon was invited by a wealthy gentleman in the 
country, some forty miles from London, to come to his place 
and preach. Arriving there, he found a huge tent erected 
in the park, with bales of hay arranged tier above tier for 
seats, a pile of bales for a pulpit, and three or four thousand 
people waiting to hear him. He preached, and the people 
thought they had never heard such preaching before. The 
service over, he retired to the gentleman's house to dine, ac- 
companied by several ministers of his own order, and followed 
by hundreds of his hearers. The conversation at table, in which 
the young preacher took the lead, was on the sin of needless 
self-indulgence, and the Christian obligation of self-denial. 
After dinner, an old minister, whose learning was rather limit- 
ed, pulled out his pipe, seemed anxious to light it, but evidently 
felt somewhat embarrassed from the preceding conversation. 
He looked at his pipe, then at the fire, and then at Mr. 
Spurgeon. Again he looked at Spurgeon, at the fire, at the 
pipe. At length he said, " Brother Spurgeon, do you think 
it would be wrong for me to smoke ?" " Have you any scrip- 



METROPOLITAN TEA-PARTIES. 455 

ture to justify the practice?" asked the preacher. "Well, 
I think I have/' added the venerable father in Israel. " I 
shall be glad to hear what it is," rejoined Mr. Spurgeon. 
" Well, brother, David was certainly a smoker." "Ah, how 
do you make that out?" "Well, he speaks, you know, in 
one of the psalms, of going through the valley of Bacca, 
(Baca;) and I make no doubt, that was a private planta- 
tion, for his own particular use." Spurgeon cast a funny 
side-glance toward his host; and keeping the serious half of 
his countenance toward the old man, replied gravely, "You 
can smoke, Father Spikenard." 



456 A YEAR IN EUROPE, 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 

CROLY MELVILL HAMILTON SKETCH OP THE LATE EDWARD IRVING 

CRITICAL ESTIMATE OF "THE MODERN WHITEFIELD." 



Let arms revere the robe — the warrior's laurel 
Yield to the palm of eloquence ! ClCERO. 

Who that has read Salatlriel has not desired to hear 
Dr. Croly ? For magnificent rhetoric and powerful descrip- 
tion, I scarcely know the equal of that book in the English 
language. When a youth, I wondered and wept over its 
glowing pages ; and I have since read it repeatedly, with 
ever-increasing admiration and delight. A few years ago, 
meeting with a stray volume of the author's sermons, I seized 
it with avidity, expecting a rare treat of eloquence. What a 
disappointment ! There was Croly's diction, and something 
of Croly's imagery; but an historical romance and an evangeli- 
cal sermon, I soon found, might be two very different things ; 
and these discourses proved meagre in thought, defective in 
logic, exceedingly discursive in treatment, and sadly wanting 
in the most important elements of pulpit composition. 
While in London, I had the opportunity of listening to their 
author. It was in his own church — St. Stephen's, Walbrook ; 
and on an interestine- occasion — a collection for a valuable 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 457 

Christian charity. Of course, the preacher did his best; 
and the sermon, I think, was equal to any that I have read 
from his pen ; but it lacked both unity of method and com- 
pactness of material, and was quite as well suited to the 
lecture-room as to the house of God. Dr. Croly is an aged 
man, of large stature and impressive appearance. His 
delivery is rapid, earnest, emphatic. His right arm is con- 
stantly in violent motion, as if he were smiting the anvil. His 
voice is thick and heavy, his enunciation somewhat indistinct 
— the effect, I am informed, of a partial paralysis of the 
organs of speech which he experienced a few years ago. He 
reads his discourses rather closely; but on this occasion he 
concluded with a powerful extempore appeal in behalf of the 
charity which he advocated. His church is large, but sparsely 
seated; though the congregation is quite select, composed in 
great part of the more intellectual class of the London gen- 
try. They use a hymn-book of their pastor's own compila- 
tion, containing many of his own compositions, which are 
worthy of his literary fame, but perhaps, like his discourses, 
wanting in evangelical unction. It seems strange to many 
that such a man as Dr. Croly should have so little influence 
in the Church — scarcely any, indeed, beyond the walls of 
St. Stephen's. The fact is probably to be attributed to this 
great defect in his ministry. He is not a spiritual preacher. 
He is not a zealous worker. He never appears upon the plat- 
form in behalf of any of the great Christian enterprises of 
the metropolis, and seems to have little sympathy with those 
who are engaged in their promotion. He is content to 
move in his own parish, and let the rest of London, and of 
the world, take care of themselves. Even at home, his 
labors are confined almost entirely to the pulpit and the pen. 
In short, he is too much like the present scribe to be a very 
useful minister of the gospel. 

The greatest man in the London pulpit, unquestionably — 
20 



458 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and, in my opinion, the finest " sernionizer" in England- — is 
the Rev. Henry Melvill, B. D. Mr. Melvill is now one of 
the canons of Saint Paul's. What a race I have had after 
hiin, to be sure — last Christmas, and since my return from 
the continent — first to Poultry Chapel, then to the Tower, 
and finally to Saint Paul's — inquiring of clergymen and 
vergers, policemen and publishers, churchmen and dissenters, 
everybody that was likely to know any thing of the object of 
my quest ! At length I have caught him. I have heard 
him three times in the great cathedral. What a pity so vast 
and fine a structure should have such inadequate accommo- 
dation for preaching ! The pulpit is in the choir, which 
twelve hundred hearers will crowd to its utmost capacity, 
galleries and all. So it is in Westminster Abbey, and in all 
the English cathedrals : not in those of Italy, for the children 
of His Holiness are " wiser in their generation" than the 
children of Her Majesty's Church. The first Sabbath, I 
went half an hour before the service ; and found the steps 
thronged, and the very street blockaded, by hundreds of 
people, waiting for the opening of the door; and when it 
was opened, there was a frightful rush — a perfect cataract of 
humanity ; and in one minute every seat was occupied, ex- 
cept the stalls, which were locked, in reserve for the choris- 
ters and distinguished personages; and as I belonged to 
neither class, I had the utmost difficulty in securing room 
even to stand within hearing-distance of the pulpit. The 
second Sabbath, the press was still greater; but through the 
kindness of the Eev. Mr. B., who sent a note to the verger 
to put me in his stall, I had a comfortable seat, and a fine 
opportunity of seeing and hearing the preacher. The third 
Sabbath, I stood through the whole service — something more 
than two hours; and had Melvill continued preaching, I 
would gladly have stood two hours longer. It was a spiritual 
treat, such as I have seldom enjoyed. As we left the church, 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 459 

a distinguished clergyman remarked to me : " You are very 
fortunate, to-day, sir : you have heard Melvill at his best." 
The text was the words of Jude : "And of some have com- 
passion, making a difference; and others save with fear, 
pulling them out of the fire ; hating even the garment 
spotted by the flesh." I need not give you a synopsis : you 
can imagine how Melvill would preach from such a text. It 
was a solid mass of thought, squared by the severest logic, 
and adorned with the noblest rhetoric. It was highly evan- 
gelical, too; full of the very essence of the gospel. But a 
delivery so peculiar, who shall describe ? It is wholly un- 
imaginable. The war-steed rushing to the charge — the 
avalanche thundering down the mountain — the burning ship 
flying before the tempest — are the best similitudes of his 
splendid impetuosity and power. His voice is clear, but not 
musical; his enunciation, very distinct and emphatic; his 
intonations and inflections, quite ludicrous to a stranger. 
Now you have the tone and cadence of rapid, earnest con- 
versation ; then the speaker drops into a lower key, husky 
and guttural, and runs on in a perfect monotone for five 
minutes or more, till you imagine him quite exhausted for 
want of breath ; when suddenly he vaults into the lofty 
sentence which is to conclude the paragraph ; and with a 
mighty "0!" in the middle, and a spasmodic jerk of the 
head at the end, he flings out the words in a half-scream, 
which well-nigh electrifies the audience. The Rev. Dr. 
Ryerson, of Canada, who was present the last Sabbath, 
assured me that he was much more vehement twenty years 
ago ; and that there is scarcely any thing now, in voice or 
manner, to remind one of the former Melvill. Action, 
strictly speaking, he has none. He stands as erect and 
motionless as the Nelson monument, till he comes to the close 
of an argument ; when he slightly elevates his right hand, 
and gives a nod, which threatens the dislocation of his neck. 



460 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Of slight stature, thin visage, dark complexion, keen black 
eyes, finely moulded features, and bushy hair as white as 
wool, he is a man of imposing mien; but not half so majes- 
tic in the pulpit as McNiel, nor half so graceful as Cumming. 
Spurgeon attracts the mob ; Melvill draws the intellect of 
London. The Penny Pulpit, for more than twenty years, 
has published more of his sermons than of any other living 
man's, and annually a large volume of them is bound up for 
the market. His popularity, however, is confined to the pul- 
pit and the manuscript. He makes no platform speeches, 
nor ever ventures an extemporaneous paragraph. 
" 'Tis true 'tis pity — pity 'tis 'tis true ;" 
but it must not be denied that he is pretty thoroughly 
imbued with the sacramentarian theology ; and in one of the 
sermons to which I listened, he taught most distinctly and 
earnestly the doctrine of baptismal regeneration — that when- 
ever the water of baptism is sprinkled by a consecrated 
hand upon a child, that child is regenerated, and needs but 
abide in the grace received, in order to eternal salvation. 
Is this the effect of ecclesiastical promotion ? Must one 
forego his reason in becoming " Chaplain in Ordinary to the 
Queen, Chaplain to the Tower of London, and Canon of St. 
Paul's ?" Than this of baptismal regeneration, it seems to 
me, there is no greater folly taught at Rome. If man only 
fainted in the fall, a little sprinkled water might revive 
him; but if he is really " dead in trespasses and sins," what 
but the Holy Spirit can restore the life which he originally 
inspired ? 

To hear Dr. James Hamilton I had nearly as much trou- 
ble as I had to hear Mr. Melvill. I went one Sunday to 
Regent Square, but the Doctor was in Scotland ; and his 
flock was fed by another, with theological whey, thickened 
with Thames water. I went again, but he had not yet re- 
turned, and we were treated to a repast of poppies and sun- 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 461 

dried cabbage-leaves. The tbird time, however, I was suc- 
cessful ; and well repaid, I assure you, for my perseverance 
and former disappointments. Tbe sermon was full of fine 
thought, adorned with the most beautiful illustrations, and 
rich in all the attributes of a fervid eloquence. Yet Mr. 
Brock — a Baptist minister, whom I heard in the evening of 
the same day — with not a tithe of his talent, has twice as 
large a congregation. The reason lies in the Doctor's 
delivery. His voice is good enough, but unskilfully 
managed ; and he speaks with a strong Scotch accent, not 
very agreeable to an English ear. He has not much action, 
and what he has is far from being graceful. He is very 
earnest, however; preaches from ample notes, but does not 
read his sermons ; and to an intelligent and cultivated 
audience, such as his appears to be, his ministry must be 
both interesting and useful. He belongs to the Free Church 
of Scotland. The house in which he preaches — a very 
large and fine one — was built for poor Irving, and is that in 
which was first manifested the modern "gift of tongues." 
From that pulpit, just as it now stands, thirty years ago, 
rolled the most majestic periods that ever charmed the ear 
of London. 

What history of a single man is fraught with more of 
melancholy interest than that of this great Christian orator ? 
To a princely person he added a most princely mind, well 
furnished with knowledge, and trained by severest study. 
But society — nay, even the Church, the most perfect form 
of human society — does not afford " every man a place 
according to his faculty." Few ever aspired to the pulpit 
under greater discouragements than Edward Irving. He 
was nearly thirty before he found employment as a preacher. 
He had preached occasionally, but generally so much to the 
discontent of his hearers, that they gave him no second invi- 
tation. He was dowered with the double curse of originality 



462 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and independence. Conscious of a Divine call, lie deter- 
mined to preach the gospel ; and despairing of a hearing at 
home, he resolved on a mission to the heathen. Persia was 
the chosen scene of his voluntary exile and evangelical 
labors. He would rely on no patronage but Heaven's, and 
seek no resources but such as Providence might furnish. 
Preparatory to his purpose, he buried himself more deeply 
than ever with books. " Rejected by the living," says, 
he, " I communed with the dead." 

At this juncture he was invited to preach for Dr. Andrew 
Thompson, in Edinburgh. He was informed that Dr. 
Chalmers, who wanted an assistant, would be one of his 
hearers. Doubtless he did his best that day; but no mes- 
sage came from the Glasgow orator. After waiting, in 
feverish anxiety, more than a fortnight, he stepped on board 
a steamer, not knowing its destination, to go wherever it 
might chance to bear him. He was landed at Belfast, and 
went wandering among the peasantry in the north of Ire- 
land. Here a letter overtook him from Dr. Chalmers, invit- 
ing him immediately to Glasgow. He consented to "make 
trial of his gifts," saying to his illustrious patron, "If your 
people bear with my preaching, they will be the first." 
They did bear with it, and Irving became Assistant-Minister 
of Saint John's. Three years he labored in connection with 
the most eloquent man in the world. But what star could 
shine so near the sun ? Discouraged with his small success, 
he resolved again on the work of a foreign missionary, and 
fixed on Jamaica as his future home. 

One morning, as he sat solitary and sorrowful in his room, 
revolving this matter in his mind, a messenger from London 
entered, with an invitation to the vacant Caledonian church, 
in Cross street, Hatton Garden. He came, and found the 
"■ mere remnant of a wasted congregation," disheartened by 
long adversity. He entered upon his new ministry with 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 463 

zeal and energy. In a very short time, his preaching 
excited an unprecedented interest in the metropolis, de- 
scribed by one of the reviewers as " the most extraordinary 
and extensive infatuation that ever seized upon a com- 
munity calling itself intelligent/' During the first quarter, 
the seatholders increased from fifty to five hundred. A lit- 
tle later, and the rank and intellect of the land thronged his 
sanctuary. The occasional sermons of Dr. Chalmers and 
Robert Hall in London did not attract such crowds as now 
pressed to Edward Irving's weekly services. The Duke of 
York repeated his visit, and carried with him other mem- 
bers of the royal family. Brougham took Mackintosh; and 
Mackintosh, by repeating at a dinner-table a beautiful sen- 
tence he had heard from Irving in prayer, drew Canning. 
Noble lords and ladies, noted wits and beauties, popu- 
lar actors and actresses, reverend bishops and men of learn- 
ing, with a mixed multitude of all classes, besieged the 
doors, and stood jammed together in the aisles. Cross 
street became as fashionable as Drury Lane, and Edward 
Irving as much the rage as ever Kemble or Kean. To 
restrain the crowd and prevent casualties, strangers were 
admitted by ticket, the seatholders entered by a side door, 
and the preacher often came through a window in the rear, 
and walked up the pulpit stairs covered with ladies of rank 
and wealth. 

" What went they out to see ? a man clothed with soft 
raiment V Edward Irving was no velvet-mouthed court- 
chaplain — no florid declaimer on virtue — no flatterer of 
aristocracy or of intellect. Never were the pretensions of 
rank more ruthlessly spurned — never were the vices of the 
rich more sternly denounced — never was the independence 
of the pulpit more bravely vindicated — than when princes 
and scholars, statesmen and ecclesiastics, swelled his 
audience. He drew them into comparison with the great 



464 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

and good of other times — with sages and heroes, prophets 
and martyrs, patriots and reformers ; and dwelt with earnest 
remonstrance on the degeneracy of modern society — the 
degeneracy of morals, religion, literature, and whatever 
affects the well-being of man. Yet none had ever a deeper 
sympathy than he with the sorrows and degradations of his 
race, or a kindlier compassion for their manifold frailties and 
follies. With all his severity he mingled much of tender- 
ness. He discoursed of the fatherhood of God, and the 
filial outgoings of the human heart. He dwelt more upon 
duties than doctrines, and preferred practical truths to 
theological subtilties. No preacher, in any age, was ever 
more practical. Large and lofty was his idea of the Chris- 
tian ministry. He thought that, while it deals with the 
highest of human interests, it should comprehend the whole 
field of human faculty and experience. To tell men plainly 
of their duties and delinquencies in all the relations of life, 
he deemed the greatest favor he could do them. Pride, 
avarice, unsanctified ambition, political expediency, and 
perverted literature, he rebuked with the tone of a prophet. 
He seems to have had the conviction of a personal call to 
this special work, and nobly did he fulfil his vocation. Mr. 
Spurgeon's mission is to the masses : Irving' s was to the 
intellect and aristocracy of London. His first book drew all 
the critics like bloodhounds after him. Dailies, weeklies, 
monthlies, and quarterlies, fell fiercely upon their prey; and 
furious pamphleteers came in armies to their aid. Extracts 
from the " Orations" appeared side by side with reports of 
parliamentary proceedings, dispatches from the seat of war, 
or a canto from Byron's last — worst — poem, then just issued 
from the press. His logic, his rhetoric, and his theology, 
were alike assailed. The Times pronounced him a ** meteor" 
and a "bubble." The pulpit animadverted severely upon 
his doctrine. The Quarterly denounced his " Babylonish 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 465 

diction." The John Bull, Cobbett's Register, and several 
other publications, heaped upon him unmeasured vitupera- 
tion and abuse. On the other hand, the New Times, the 
Morning Chronicle, the Examiner, the Westminster, and a 
host of pamphlets, were extravagant in eulogy of his elo- 
quence. All this but heightened the popularity of the 
preacher. Every great charity solicited his advocacy. His 
occasional discourses were published ; some of them ex- 
panded into ponderous volumes. Frequently he preached 
three hours without a pause, and seldom drew to a conclu- 
sion without reserving for some future occasion a topic or 
two started by the way. His physical strength seemed 
inexhaustible, and his mind was one of unparalleled fer- 
tility. Meanwhile, the church at Hatton Garden becoming 
too strait for the audience, this new and spacious one was 
erected.* 

About this time appeared some seeds and signs of change, 
to which his intercourse with Coleridge somewhat contribut- 
ed. Several interviews with Hartley Frere, Esq., led to the 
adoption of Mede's system of prophetic interpretation, and 
the premillennial doctrine of the second advent. The imme- 
diate product was " Babylon and Infidelity Foredoomed of 
God," a nobler volume than which, on prophecy, has not 
appeared in the English tongue. Then came the famous 
Conference of Prophetic Inquiry, at Albury Park, followed 
by endless discourses on prophetic themes, and endless con- 
troversies about prophetic applications. Irving goes to 
Edinburgh to lecture on the Revelation ; and at five in the 
morning, for twelve days in succession, the largest church 
of the metropolis is overcrowded to hear him ; and on one 
occasion, an accident proves fatal to twenty-six persons, and 
seriously injures more than a hundred. "I have no hesita- 
tion," writes Dr. Chalmers, "in saying that it is quite woe- 
ful. There is power, and richness, and gleams of exquisite 
20* 



466 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

beauty; but withal, a mysticism and extreme allegorization, 
which must be pernicious to the general cause." His Homi- 
lies on Baptism enunciated a new doctrine in relation to that 
sacrament — an anticipation of Oxfordism. His Discourses 
on the Mutual Responsibility of Church and State proved 
still more obnoxious to many of his brethren. On all sides 
he was assailed with the cry of " Heretic !" and within the 
space of five years, to use his own words, he was " set down 
as having boxed the whole compass of heresy." But the 
great error charged against him was his doctrine of the sin- 
ful humanity of the Redeemer. He held that Christ assumed 
our fallen nature, with all its liabilities and temptations to 
evil ; and was preserved from actual sin only by the indwell- 
ing power of the Godhead. Then came "the last and saddest 
act of this eventful history." Irving had taught his congre- 
gation that the miraculous gifts of the Holy GhosiJ*were in- 
tended to be the perpetual endowment of the Church, and 
were discontinued only because of her unfaithfulness. De- 
spairing of the world's conversion by the preaching of the 
gospel, and looking for supernatural manifestations as the 
prelude of the glorious advent of our Lord, they began more 
earnestly to pray for the restoration of these " powers of the 
world to come." One and another soon began prophesying 
and speaking in unknown tongues. Mr. Irving instituted 
an examination into these extraordinary phenomena, satisfied 
himself of their genuineness, and "did exceedingly rejoice 
that the bridal attire and jewels of the Church had been 
found again." 

His trustees, however, seem to have been less satisfied 
with the affair. They preferred a charge of irregularity 
against him, and he was arraigned before the Presbytery 
of London. His defence, in two speeches, each about four 
hours long, was one of the noblest ever uttered, and probably 
the masterpiece of his own masterly eloquence. He warned 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 467 

his brethren, that if they cast hirn and his flock out of the 
church which had been built for him, and yery much upon 
the credit of his own name, Grod would certainly punish 
them in the same manner by those who had the secular 
charge of their churches. This warning has lately been 
regarded by many as a prophecy. I cannot think that Edward 
Irving was a prophet. He may have had a sagacious fore- 
sight of the disruption of the Scottish Kirk, and what he 
dimly foresaw he boldly foretold. His remembered words 
must have come home to some of them with signal emphasis, 
when so many of their number were driven out of their 
sanctuaries, and the very house from which they had ejected 
their illustrious brother passed over to the communion of the 
great secession. " I tell you," he exclaimed, " your vine 
shall be withered ; I tell you, your cisterns shall be dried up ; 
I tell you, ye shall have no pasture for your flocks ) I tell 
you, your flocks shall pine away and die !" The remon- 
strance was vain. They cast him forth out of the church in 
which, as he touchingly said, his babes were buried. 

A year after this, he stood at the bar of the Presbytery 
of his native town — the Presbytery from which he had 
received ordination — to answer to a charge of heresy concern- 
ing the human nature of our Lord. Thousands flocked to 
the trial of their illustrious countryman. Again he spoke 
two full hours, with amazing eloquence; and the hearts 
of the multitude were moved by his speech, " as the trees 
of the wood are moved by the wind ;" but though the popu- 
lar sympathy was with him, his brethren cut him off from 
their connection, and deposed him from the Christian 
ministry. He remained some weeks in Scotland, preaching 
daily, and four times a day, to unprecedented crowds in the 
open air ; and in all the localities which he visited, even 
now, after the lapse of twenty-five years, his predictions are 
remembered — his denunciations are repeated — above all, his 



468 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

loving words are cherished ; and the ploughman still stops in 
his furrow to point out to the traveller the spot where he 
heard " Doctor Irving" preach from a cart, and tell how he 
shook his little Bible at the kirk, and how the people wept 
at his departure, for there was not the like of him in all 
the land. 

He returned to resume his labors in London. Excluded 
from the pulpit which had been urged on his acceptance, he 
betook himself now, as he had told the Presbytery he would, 
to " the open places about the city." Thousands followed him 
to the field, the park, the public square ; and the places 
where he stood were made memorable by his appeals. But 
the shocks which he had suffered were too much even for 
Edward Irving. The strong man bowed beneath his weight 
of sorrow. In the sick-chamber he pined with a broken 
heart. Two years after his deposal, he died at Glasgow. 
His last words were : "Living or dying, I am the Lord's." 
In the crypt of the Glasgow cathedral he lies, awaiting " the 
resurrection of the just," of which he discoursed while living 
as perhaps no other man since the apostles ever discoursed 
before ! 

While in London, I heard Mr. Spurgeon twice in the 
Great New Park Street Chapel, twice in the immense Music 
Hall at Surrey Gardens, and once on the day of the National 
Fast in the Crystal Palace, when he preached to about 
twenty-five thousand people ; and though I have already said 
something of him, I beg leave here to devote a few pages to 
a more critical examination of his eloquence and its wonder- 
ful effects. 

Mr. Spurgeon's popularity is as great as ever — rather on 
the increase. Envy and bigotry from the beginning spoke 
of him as a meteor — a will-o'-the-wisp — stared at by the 
multitude, but soon to explode and disappear. But all these 
prophecies have failed, and Mr. Spurgeon never had a larger 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 469 

audience than he has now. Formerly only the lower classes 
crowded his chapel ; now every Sabbath finds the aristocracy 
of West End, clergymen of the Establishment, members 
of Parliament, and noble lords and ladies, occupying reserved 
seats around the desk at Surrey Gardens. Perhaps no man 
ever had a firmer hold upon the public heart of London than 
Mr. Spurgeon has at this moment ; and envy and bigotry 
may frown, and sneer, and criticise, and calumniate ; but 
this young man, with all his faults — and no just critic will 
deny him many of them — with Grod to help as hitherto he 
manifestly has helped him, will outlive the satires of his ene- 
mies, and shine among those who have turned many to 
righteousness, when their lamp has gone out in darkness. 

But what is the secret of his success ? Whence his great 
popularity ? Is there any thing peculiar in the man himself, 
in his manner, or his doctrines, or the circumstances of his 
ministry ? I will endeavor to answer these questions. 

Mr. Spurgeon is certainly not indebted for his popularity 
to his origin, for he is of humble birth ; nor to the influence 
of his sect, for the Anabaptists are among the least esteemed 
of all the dissenting bodies in England. Nor is it to be 
ascribed to a fine person or agreeable manners ; for he is a 
great, fat, rotund, overgrown boy, awkward in action, un- 
handsome in features, and scarcely tidy in dress ; a man 
whom no lady would love at sight ; more likely to be taken 
for a butcher than a preacher; apparently feasting more on 
roast-beef and plum-pudding than on "the bread that cometh 
down from heaven." Nor does he show a high degree of 
mental culture, or any thing like refinement of taste ; for his 
mind has manifestly never been closely schooled in metaphy- 
sical or dialectic studies, and frequently he is offensively 
coarse and vulgar in his style. Nor is his logic or his rheto- 
ric of a superior character; for of the former he has, properly 
speaking, little or none, and the latter is as full of faults as 



470 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

it is of figures. Nor is lie guilty of any unusual originality, 
profundity, or brilliancy of thought ; for he never utters any 
thing new, or any thing remarkably striking. Nor has he a 
very charming voice ; for though it is clear and strong, it is 
neither varied nor musical, having great volume but little 
compass — not at all what you would call an oratorical voice 
— monotonous and inflexible, incapable alike of majesty and 
of tenderness. ■ Nor is it fine action ; for in this department 
he is greatly inferior to many whom I know in the American 
pulpit who have never attained to a tenth part of his cele- 
brity ; and must have been vastly excelled by George White- 
field and Edward Irving, with both of whom he has so often 
been compared by an undiscriminating press. Not in any 
nor in all of these lies the power of Mr. Spurgeon ; but 
it does lie, if I mistake not, in the following facts : 

1. He is quite natural. — In the pulpit he seems perfectly 
at home, and fears none but God. Free from all embarrass- 
ment of timidity, and entirely self-possessed, he talks to his 
hearers like a friend. Even in his most impassioned utter- 
ances, there is no pulpit tone, no clerical mannerism, nothing 
that you might not look for in the secular orator, or the 
scientific lecturer. 

2. He is very simple. — He says nothing that the youngest 
and most illiterate of his hearers cannot perfectly under- 
stand. His language is good idiomatic Saxon. There are 
no Latinisms, no Germanisms, no long and difficult words, 
no tangled and high-pressure sentences — only such as may 
instantly be comprehended by the boot-black and the news- 
boy. He never aims at ornament, nor uses two words where 
one will answer. In this respect he resembles Wesley and 
Whitefield. 

3. He is Tiiglily dramatic. — Every thing lives, moves, and 
speaks in his sermons. The whole discourse, indeed, is only 
a series of pictures, brought vividly before the audience. 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 471 

There are no cold and dry abstractions. Every truth is 
clothed with life and power. Metaphors and similes crowd 
upon one another as thick as Jeremy Taylor's or Edward 
Irving'sj though not as graceful as the former, nor as gor- 
geous as the latter. But his chief forte is the apostrophe, in 
the use of which certainly he has seldom been excelled. His 
dramatic power, though inferior undoubtedly to Whitefield's 
or Irving' s, is confessedly very great. 

4. He is manifestly in earnest. — No man perhaps was ever 
more so. He seems to put his whole soul into every sermon. 
He speaks as if he stood with his audience upon a trembling- 
point between heaven and hell. His great desire evidently 
is to do God's work well, and save as many souls as he can. 
Hence that directness of application, that fervid hortatory 
style, which rivets the attention, forces home the truth, and 
makes every hearer feel himself personally addressed by 
the preacher. Hence also that boldness and fidelity which 
rebukes sin in high places, and speaks to " my noble lords 
and ladies" as plainly as to the cab-driver and the kitchen- 
maid. The last time that I heard him, the Duchess of 
Sutherland was present, and several other noble personages, 
who perhaps had never listened to a dissenting preacher 
before ; and if he did not deal faithfully with their souls 
that day, then Nathan did not deal faithfully with David, 
nor Paul with Felix or Agrippa. 0, but he did thresh them 
with the gospel flail ! 0, but he did grind them, as with 
millstones, between the two tables of the law ! He seemed 
to draw the string more tightly, and point the arrow more 
accurately, because he was aiming high. You will read 
these passages some day in his reported sermons. I never 
heard any thing nobler from human lips. It was worthy of 
an Elijah or a Peter ! 

5. Ih preacJies the doctrines of the gospel. — Human de- 
pravity, Christ crucified, justification by faith, spiritual 



472 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

regeneration, and judgment to come, are his constant themes. 
It is the good old gospel, and nothing new, that he keeps 
before the people. I do not say, for I do not think, that he 
preaches this good old gospel in the very best form. All 
wheat has chaff. Mr. Spurgeon preaches Calvinism gone to 
seed. But among the chaff there is so much wheat, that 
hungry souls cannot fail of nourishment under his ministry. 
In short, although he preaches Calvinism in a form which 
would be offensive to nine-tenths of the Calvinists of Chris- 
tendom, he preaches Arminianism very much more. He is 
theoretically a Calvinist, but practically an Arminian. He 
has a Calvinistic head, but an Arminian heart; and his 
heart is so much greater than his head that it always carries 
the day. He invariably tells the sinner that he can do 
nothing, and must wait for God to do all; but then he falls 
to and urges him with such irresistible energy to immediate 
repentance and faith in Christ, that the poor man fortunately 
forgets the former statement, and is carried captive by the 
preacher's impetuous exhortation. Thus Mr. Spurgeon is 
constantly contradicting himself in the most remarkable 
manner; and it seems strange to me that every hearer does 
not see the incompatibility of his theory and his practice. 
In one of the sermons to which I listened, after having 
stated the doctrine of predestination and election in the 
strongest possible form, he exhorted his hearers with a most 
genial warmth to turn immediately to God ; when all at once 
he seemed to recollect himself, but the heart still carried it 
over the head, and he exclaimed : " You may accuse me of 
preaching Arminianism : I care not — it is what I love to 
preach, and am bound to preach, and will, by the help of 
God !" and still he went on with greater fervor than ever. 

6. But the best of all is, God is until Mm. — Who can doubt 
it? This is the chief reason of his success. It is not by 
might nor by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord. Mr. 



PULPIT CELEBRITIES. 473 

Spui'geon is a sincere and simple-hearted man, deeply con- 
cerned for the salvation of his fellow-men, and God is own- 
ing and blessing his labors. And why not ? If he scatters 
some tares, he scatters also, and much more plentifully, " the 
good seed of the kingdom." If he builds with " wood, hay, 
stubble," he yet builds upon the true foundation, " which is 
Christ Jesus/' and "gold, silver, and precious stones" adorn 
the superstructure. Was not the Saviour's immediate har- 
binger a rough man of the desert ? u Not many wise, noble, 
mighty are called." Is it not now in this respect much as 
in the days of Paul ? How many such instances are re- 
corded in the annals of Methodism ! God sends by whom 
he will, and often honors his truth with a blessing, though 
it be mixed with error. Amen ; and let him be anathema 
who dares to call the Divine Wisdom to account for such 
disorderly proceedings ! Away with your silly cant about 
pulpit propriety and refinement ! Away with your bigoted 
formalism, which would hinder the free course of the gospel ! 
I was speaking of Dr. McNeil in Italy, when an Englishman 
exclaimed, " But he is a firebrand in the Church!" This 
is what the Church needs : would to God there were more 
such ! The Church must be set on fire, no matter who bears 
the torch, or in what manner ! Thank God, Mr. Spurgeon, 
with all his faults, has done a great work in London ; and 
the indirect result, perhaps, is the greater part of the good. 
Who has not heard of the current series of discourses to the 
poor in Exeter Hall ? I listened to one of them, by the 
Hon. and Rev. Hugh Stowell. The immense room was 
crowded to its utmost capacity — not less than six thousand 
hearers : while the Rev. gentleman was delivering, without 
notes, one of the most eloquent and fervent appeals for God I 
ever heard, a city missionary of the Establishment was hold- 
ing forth in the street to the crowd that could not effect an 
entrance. All this, and much more of the same sort, has 



474 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the hearty concurrence and sanction of the Bishop of London. 
Who has waked up this feeling among the clergy ? They 
have seen what crowds are following Mr. Spurgeon, and they 
cannot consent to be outdone by the Dissenters ; and, some 
from fear, and some from shame, and some from the love of 
souls, glad of the occasion and the opportunity, they are 
putting forth their might in this holy work; and now, 
blessed be God ! again may it be said in London, " the poor 
have the gospel preached to them." And the flame which 
these " firebrands" have kindled is spreading over the king- 
dom, and hundreds of sermons are preached every Lord's 
day in the open air. I spent a Sabbath in Clifton, the beau- 
tiful suburb of Bristol. In the morning I heard a delightful 
extempore sermon from the Rev. Mr. Brock, of Christ 
Church. In the afternoon, passing across Durdham Down, 
I found the same gentleman preaching without his gown to 
an immense crowd of people, under a cluster of elms. Gro 
on, Mr. Spurgeon, and don't be afraid of mingling too many 
Arminian appeals with your Calvinistic dogmas ! You are 
doing a good work ; and Cod prosper your ministry ! 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 475 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

PLEASANT VARIETIES. 

THE BROWNS RICHMOND HILL THOMSON BUSHY PARK HAMPTON 

COURT — CARDINAL WOLSEY — ROYAL RESIDENTS — VARIETIES — GREAT 
WESTERN RAILWAY OFFICIAL DIGNITY CLEVEDON MYRTLE COT- 
TAGE PROMENADE AND PROSPECT CLEVEDON COURT WRINGTON 

WESTON SUPER MARE INTERESTING ANTIQUITIES. 

Among the many interesting people with whom I became 
acquainted through the kindness of Dr. and Mrs. Cross, were 
Mr. and Mrs. Brown, of Wimbledon Park, about eight miles 
from London. Having spent a delightful afternoon at their 
charming residence, we made an engagement for a second 
visit, with an excursion to Hampton Court. The next week 
we enjoyed that promised pleasure, and here is a skeleton- 
history of the day. 

Never blessed the metropolis a more beautiful morning. 
No fog enveloped the towers and domes of the city; and as 
we rushed along the South-western Railway, the bright sun- 
shine and the balmy wind, with the rich tints of the autumn 
foliage, brought back sweet visions of the fair Salernian 
shores. 

At Putney, Mr. Brown met us, with two carriages, and 
coachmen and footmen in splendid livery, ready to devote 
the day to the gratification of his guests. We were soon en 
route for the royal seat, over Putney Heath and Wimbledon 



476 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Common, past many a charming villa, and among the rest 
the stately mansion of the Duchess of Gloucester. Then we 
traversed the breadth of Richmond Park — eight miles from 
gate to gate, twenty-four in circuit; and whole herds of 
young deer bounded off to the right and the left as we ap- 
proached, while their more experienced sires and dams 
stood and gazed at us without fear, or lay quietly upon the 
soft grass. Attaining the summit of Richmond Hill, we 
enjoyed a coup d'oeil scarcely surpassed in Europe. To the 
south and east spread the vast down, with here and there a 
windmill swinging its huge arms in the air, and environed 
on all sides with the splendid country-seats of the London 
gentry. To the north-east, ten miles distant, Westminster 
Abbey, the Victoria Tower, the dome of Saint Paul's, and a 
whole forest of church steeples, rose through the purple 
mist, like a fleet at sea. Still more remote, Harrow on the 
Hill in the north, and Windsor Castle in the north-west, 
stood out in clear relief against the horizon. At our feet, 
through as fine a landscape as ever blessed the vision of man, 
flowed the Thames, encompassing many a green island, with 
a young steamer in the distance, and scores of white swans 
floating gracefully upon its bosom. On the brow of the hill, 
overlooking a sweet vale, in which a village reposed, we 
found the following lines upon a board, hung upon an elm : 

LINES ON JAMES THOMSON, 

The Poet of Nature. 

Ye who from London's smoke and turmoil fly, 
To seek a purer air and brighter sky, 
Think of the bard who dwells in yonder dell, 
Who sang so sweetly what he loved so well: 
Think, as you gaze on these luxuriant bowers, 
Here Thomson loved the sunshine and the flowers — 
He who could paint in all their varied forms, 
April's young bloom, December's dreary storms. 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 477 

By yon fair stream, which calmly glides along, 
Pure as his life, and lovely as his song, 
There oft he roved : in yonder churchyard lies 
All of the deathless bard that ever dies ; 
For here his gentle spirit lingers still, 
In yon sweet vale, on this enchanted hill, 
Flinging a holier interest o'er the grove, 
Stirring the heart to poetry and love, 
Bidding us prize the favorite scenes he trod, 
And view in nature's beauties nature's God. 

This, then, is classic ground. Here the author of The 
Seasons, "the laziest and best-natured of mortal men," used 
to saunter about with his hands in his pockets, or sit and 
dream on the sunny side of the hill. " Never before or 
since," says the late Hugh Miller, "was there a man of 
genius wrought out of such mild and sluggish elements as 
James Thomson." Yet he was a kind-hearted, unselfish, 
and lovable man, devoted to his friends, and binding them 
to himself with the strongest ties of affection. Poor Collins, 
a man of warm and genial heart, came and lived at Rich- 
mond for the sake of his society; and when the poet died, 
quitted the place for ever. Shenstone also loved him well, 
and felt life grow darker at his departure ; and Quin wept 
for him no feigned tears on the boards of the theatre. 
Thomson is well portrayed by Lord Lyttleton in the stanza, 
"by another hand," included in "The Castle of Indolence:" 

"A bard here dwelt, more fat than bard beseems, 

Who, void of envy, guile, and lust of gain, 
On virtue still, and nature's passing themes, 

Poured forth his unpremeditated strain. 

The world forsaking with a calm disdain, 
Here laughed he careless in his easy seat ; 

Here quaffed, encircled with the joyous train, 
Oft moralizing sage : his ditty sweet, 
He loathed much to write, ne cared to repeat." 



478 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

And these were his favorite haunts, where he wandered so 
often, his imagination full of many-colored conceptions, with 
a quiet eye noting every change which threw its tints of 
gloom or gladness over the diversified prospect, and the 
images of beauty sank into his quiescent mind, as the 
silent shower sinks into the crannies and fissures of the soil, 
to come gushing out at some future day, in those springs of 
poetry which so sparkle in " The Seasons," or that glide in 
such quiet yet lustrous beauty in that most finished of Eng- 
lish poems, " The Castle of Indolence." It is a spot where 
one may learn the meaning of his own sweet lines — 

"The love of nature works, 
And warms the bosom, till, at last sublimed 
To rapture and enthusiastic heat, 
We feel the present Deity, and taste 
The joy of God to see a happy world." 

But I must not tarry here dreaming of Thomson. 
Down the hill, through the fair town of Richmond, over 
the Thames, past Twickenham and Hampton Wick, the 
villa of Pope, the palace of Walpole, and many a scene of 
rural beauty ; and then by an iron gate we enter Bushy 
Park, and drive through an avenue of stately chestnuts, a 
mile in length, five rows on either hand, and innumera- 
ble deer grazing in quiet security beneath their ample shade. 
These chestnuts are said to present in the blooming-season, 
as one might well conceive, an extremely fine appearance ; 
and on any pleasant Sabbath during the summer, thousands 
of people may be seen sitting or strolling in the park, 
which is always open to the public, affording a convenient 
retreat from the din and dust of the metropolis. On our 
right we caught a glimpse of Bushy Lodge — a large brick 
building, looking very much like an English farm-house of 
the better class — where William the Fourth was residing 
when the messenger came to hail him " King of Great 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 479 

Britain/' and where the Queen Dowager Adelaide breathed 
out her departing soul to its Maker. At the south end of 
the avenue is a fountain surrounded by a circular lake, and 
surmounted by a bronze statue of the goddess Diana, which 
adds much to the beauty of the prospect. 

Now we enter the grounds of Hampton Court. Hard by 
the gate is the " Maze," probably the very same that existed 
here in the days of Henry the Eighth — 

"A mighty maze, but not without a plan" — 

where you may walk a mile within half an acre; and the 
children, of whom there were six in our company — one or 
two "of larger growth" — had rare sport in misleading one 
another, as they sought their way to the centre. Then we 
traverse " The Wilderness" — ten acres of large trees and 
thick shrubbery, chiefly evergreen, with fragrant winding 
walks, "nieet place for whispering lovers." Next are the 
gardens, which I think are equal to any that I saw upon the 
Continent, adorned with yew, fir, balsam, myrtle, laurel, 
cedar, and cypress, with long avenues of elms and limes, in- 
terspersed with clambering vines, and rose-trees spreading 
over the walls, and numerous parterres of flowers filling the 
air with sweetness. In front of the palace is an artificial 
lake, full of gold-fish, the largest I have seen ; with a great 
number of swans, black and white, sailing gracefully upon 
its surface. There is a broad terrace, nearly a mile in 
length, having a fine iron railing, and constructed by order 
of William the Third, where the visitor may stroll along the 
Thames — not polluted here with the vomit of gas-houses, 
dye-houses, slaughter-houses, the sewers of the city, and all 
hideous abominations, but pure and pellucid as our own 
Cumberland, where it gushes from the mountains of Ken- 
tucky. In a more private part of the grounds, adjoining 
the palace, and enclosed by an extra wall, is " Queen Mary's 



480 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Bower" — so called, though it seems to have been there in 
the time of Charles the Second, and may have sheltered 
even Nell Gwynne from the sunbeams ; with the remains of 
Queen Mary's botanical collection, and the largest grape- 
vine in England — perhaps the largest in Europe — the fruit 
of which is preserved for Her Majesty's exclusive use. The 
palace covers eight acres of ground, and contains one thou- 
sand and ninety-three paintings, many of which are very 
large, and some exceedingly fine ; but I shall leave the de- 
scription of these and the other works of art to a taste more 
, cultivated and a pen more capable than my own. 

Hampton Court was originally built by Cardinal Wolsey. 
At the summit of his power, desiring to have a palace suita- 
ble to his rank, and to locate the structure in a healthy place, 
he employed the most eminent physicians in England, and 
called in the aid of six learned doctors from Padua, to 
select the best site within twenty miles of London. After 
thorough examination, they agreed in recommending Hamp- 
ton Parish; and the Cardinal, upon the faith of their 
report, proceeded to bargain with the Prior of Saint John's 
for a lease of the manor. He was a man of taste, and hav- 
ing studied the science of architecture, was able to furnish 
a plan of the building from his own designs ; and in a very 
short time he had provided himself a residence surpassing 
in magnitude and splendor any of the royal palaces in Eng- 
land. Here he lived in a style of magnificence and luxury 
equalled only by the profligacy of his manners. Having 
absolutely engrossed the royal favor, he ruled the country 
and the king. His pride and ostentation were unbounded-; 
but they were equalled by his ambition and his covetousness. 
If he was liberal in the patronage of learning, and the en- 
dowment of benevolent institutions, he seems to have been 
influenced in these instances, as in others, by the desire of 
personal aggrandizement and the love of fame. For a time, 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 481 

no bad man was more successful. In the plenitude of his 
power, he retained no less than eight hundred persons in his 
suite, and his revenues exceeded those of the Crown. The 
banquets and masques, so prevalent at that period, were 
nowhere more magnificently ordered than at Hampton 
Court; and the vast establishment of the luxurious Cardinal 
was none too extensive for the accommodation of the nume- 
rous guests frequently entertained at his festive board. But 
such magnificence could not escape the lash of the satirist; 
and Kenton sings in quaint old verse of this superb 
mansion — 

"With turrettes and with toures, 

With halles and "with boures, 

Stretching to the starres, 

With glass windows and barres ; 

Hanging about their walles 

Clothes of golde and palles, 

Arras of ryche arraye 

Fresh as floures in Maye ;" 

and then adds : 

" The kynges court 
Should have the excellence ; 
But Hampton Court 
Hath the preeminence ; 
And Yorkes place, 
With my Lord's grace, 
To whose magnificence 
Is all the confluence, 
States and applications, 
Embassies of all nations." 

And royal envy, as might be supposed, was not slower 
than the poet's satire. The King — Henry the Eighth — de- 
manded of the proprietor of Hampton Court what was his 
motive in building a palace more magnificent than his own. 
The ready answer was, "I desire to furnish a residence 
21 



482 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

worthy of so great a monarch, and it is now at the disposal 
of your Majesty." "I accept it," replied the King, " and 
give you the manor of Richmond in return." Thus the 
Cardinal's palace hecame the property of the Crown. Hence 
poor Anne Boleyn went to the scaffold. Here Queen Jane 
Seymour gave birth to Edward the Sixth, and died a few 
days afterward. Here the young king dwelt with the Pro- 
tector Somerset, when the council threatened to take him 
away by force, and the household and the populace armed 
for his defence. Here Queen Mary and Philip of Spain 
" passed their honeymoon in gloomy retirement," and took 
their Christmas supper "in the great hall illuminated with a 
thousand lamps." Here the Princess Elizabeth heard 
matins in the Queen's closet, " attired in a robe of white 
satin, strung all over with large pearls." Here she after- 
ward "sat with their Majesties in a grand spectacle of 
jousting," when " two hundred lances were broken." 
Here she held her court when she became queen, imitating 
to some extent the magnificence and luxury of Henry 
the Eighth. Here occurred the grand Conference of James 
the First with the Puritan leaders, when in his own opinion 
he " peppered them soundly." Here Charles the First and 
his queen, Henrietta, sought refuge from the plague, and 
subsequently from the insurgent apprentices of London. 
Here the unhappy king was kept in splendid captivity by 
the army nearly three months, till he found means of escape 
to the Isle of Wight. Here Oliver Cromwell took up his 
abode after Charles was beheaded, and celebrated the mar- 
riage of one daughter and the funeral of another. Charles 
the Second and James the Second also resided at Hampton 
Court ; William the Third made large restorations and addi- 
tions to the palace, and laid out the parks and gardens in 
their present form; and Mary, his illustrious queen, filled 
one entire room with beautiful embroidery, Wrought by her 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 483 

own hands, and those of her maids of honor. G-eorge the 
First sometimes held his court here; and George the 
Second and Queen Caroline were the last royal occupants. 

For our wanderings through the spacious and splendid 
apartments — for our pleasant skiff- excursion clown the 
Thames to Ditton, with its quaint old church and tower — for 
our entertainment at the Swan, the humor of our Lyberian 
waiter, and the " lively" character of the cheese — for an 
account of Kingstone, so called because it possesses, well 
preserved, the stone on which the kings of England were 
anciently crowned — the Koyal Gardens at Kew, with their 
tropical plants and flowers, and beautiful collection of palms 
— the country for miles and miles brilliantly lighted with 
gas, as we returned at eventide across the moor to Wimble- 
don Park — the courtesy and hospitality of Mr. and Mrs. 
Brown, their magnificent establishment, their numerous 
attendants, and their amiable children — also for the scribe's 
perambulations through the seventeen colleges of Cambridge, 
and the twenty-four colleges of Oxford — the home and 
haunts of Shakspeare, Charlecote Park, Warwick Castle, 
what remains of Kenilworth, and the huge relics of the 
mighty Guy — a visit to the Crystal Palace, to the unlaunch- 
able Leviathan, to the Zoological Gardens, containing speci- 
mens of all that walks, or creeps, or swims, or flies — a week 
of unalloyed enjoyment at the princely mansion of Mr. Salt- 
marshe in Berkshire, the excellent Mrs. Saltmarshe's ser- 
mons to the poor, the pious and amiable Miss Watson, and 
many other unforgetable matters — for all this the reader is 
affectionately exhorted to wait with exemplary patience till 
he sees the future poem, with which the writer's soul is 
painfully pregnant. 

Let us away to Somersetshire. What a noble line is this 
Great Western Railway ! by far the best I ever travelled, 



484 A YEAR IN EUROPE 

either in Europe or America. The carriages, however, are 
not so comfortable as some I have occupied. The first-class 
•will do very well ; but most respectable people travel in the 
second ; and I like, when I can, to be with the majority. 
As we are adjusting ourselves in those cushionless seats at 
Bath, a very neat-looking lady and gentleman apply to the 
guard for a place in the first-class. That functionary opens 
the door of a carriage in which sits a solitary gentleman. 
The solitary gentleman waves his hand to the guard, and 
bows to the new-comers in a most significant and . solemn 
manner. " I dare say," says the guard in an undertone, at 
the same time shutting the door, " I can find you a seat in 
another carriage." " But why not in this ?" inquired the 
gentleman with the lady; and then, addressing himself to 
the solitary occupant within, " You have not engaged the 
whole carriage, have you, sir ?" The solitary occupant 
within replies, " The guard will find you- seats elsewhere, 
sir." " But why not here ?" " The guard will show you 
seats, sir." " The train is going to start ! this way, sir ! be 
quick !" shouts the guard. " Quick, madam !''* cries the 
station-master ; u anywhere ! anywhere !" So, with a first- 
class ticket, the lady and gentleman were hustled into a 
second-class car, and the latter was obliged to sit with a 
bandbox on his kne^s all the way to Bristol. Arriving there, 
the majestic gentleman whom they had left alone in his glory, 
stepped out like very royalty upon the platform, drew a huge 
gold watch from his pocket, and exclaimed with most im- 
pressive emphasis, " One minute behind time !" Out came 
the watches of all the officials, who gathered around the im- 
personated magnificence, making most deferential compari- 
sons of their respective time-pieces with his ; while a porter 
ran to call a cab, and half-a-dozen more assisted His Serene 
Highness to his seat, and every official upon the platform 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 485 

touched his hat as the human Behemoth rode away. This 
was a Director; and such in England is the reverence paid 
to official dignity and wealth ! 

Half an hour more, and we are at Clevedon, a pretty 
watering-place on the Bristol Channel. Walking from the 
station to the hotel, I passed a small cottage, which an 
amateur was engaged in sketching. I wondered what for, 
for there was nothing remarkable in its appearance, and I 
saw many prettier every day. A party of ladies came' by, 
one of whom — a tall girl, singularly handsome, with dark, 
piercing eyes — said to her companions, " I see people will keep 
■sketching that ugly little cottage, which Coleridge never did 
live in, though everybody says he did." So this, it seems, 
is the immortal Myrtle Cottage. I know not on what author- 
ity the beautiful young lady negatived the common tradition, 
and shall leave her to settle the controversy with Cottle, who 
states that Coleridge did live there ; and adds that the house 
" had the advantage of being but one story high ; and as 
the rent was only five pounds per annum, and the taxes 
naught, Mr. C. bad the satisfaction of knowing that by fairly 
mounting his Pegasus, he could write as many verses in a 
week as would pay his rent for a year." And thus the poet 
himself sings of his rural home : 

"Low was our pretty cot: our tallest rose 
Peeped at the chamber window. We could hear, 
At silent noon, at eve, and early morn, 
The sea's faint murmur. In the open air 
Our myrtles blossomed; and across the porch 
Thick jasmines twined. The little landscape round 
Was green and woody, and refreshed the eye. 
It was a spot which you might aptly call 
The valley of seclusion !" — Sibylline Leaves. 

At the Royal Hotel I found comfortable quarters and great 
civility. It was pleasant to stroll out into the little garden 



486 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

toward the sea, and find its well-kept lawn tastefully inter- 
spersed with the prettiest and sweetest flowers. Passing 
thence through a little iron gate, I ascended by a steep path 
to the top of Dial Hill, whence I could look down upon the 
town spread out like a map at my feet. The houses — some 
small and handsome, others large and comfortable — are de- 
tached and irregular, like the ground on which they are 
built. The roads wind gracefully around the hills, across 
which, and through the shadowy copsewood, runs many a 
pleasant footpath. Turn where you will, the eye reposes 
upon a landscape of living beauty. How charming is the 
plain, stretching away to the left, in rich luxuriance of tree 
and pasturage, till its length is lost in the hazy summer sky; 
its breadth girded by a noble range of hills, along whose 
base and sides the little villages repose like flocks of sheep ! 
How delightful is the sea-view on the right, with its beautiful 
islands, and white towering light-houses, and the blue moun- 
tains of South Wales beyond ! And there go the ships, ten 
miles distant, down the Channel, toward the great ocean, 
toward my western home, and my fair-haired prattler — 
bearing many a heart sad from the recent farewell, or buoy- 
ant with the hope of happy meetings. God speed their 
way ! 

I pursue my walk along the fragrant hill-side. The dew 
still lingers on the graceful fern-leaves, and bends the sweet 
wild rose upon its slender stem. Whether from the land or 
the sea, I know not, but a fresher, purer, more enlivening 
air I never breathed. I soon enter a grove of firs and 
larches, carpeted with the greenest and softest grass, and an 
Italian sky is smiling through the openings of the dewy 
branches. And here is Bella Vista — worthy of its name. 
There is many a view in England, sung by poets and praised 
by tourists, which strangers will go fifty miles to see, and 
whose name is familiar to the reading; world as a household 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 487 

word, which yet can bear no comparison with this; and I 
scarcely saw any thing of the sort more beautiful on the 
Continent. The rock on which I stand overhangs the Wal- 
ton Valley, three hundred feet below ; and the gray old cas- 
tle yonder, an embattled ruin of vast extent, and the church 
frequented by former generations, now grass-grown and deso- 
late, seem to invite me to their communion ; but I dare not 
descend— I have shaken hands with antiquity. How sooth- 
ingly comes the tinkle of the sheep-bell from the quiet vale; 
and how inspiring in its majesty the voice of " the sounding 
sea" along the rocky shore ! I sit, and gaze, and listen, and 
my soul is feasting on sad and pleasant memories ; for many 
years have passed since I visited these dear haunts of my 
childhood, and in a few more days I must bid them adieu for 
ever. 

The manor of Clevedon is mentioned in Doomsday Book, 
I believe, as being held by Matthew de Moretanie, under 
William the Conqueror. The present manor-house — Cleve- 
don Court, as it is called — was built in the reign of Edward 
II., when the Clevedon family held the manor. It is one of 
the most beautiful specimens of those antique mansions for 
which Somersetshire is so particularly famed. The modern 
millionaire may rear himself a palace of vast dimensions, and 
fill it with all that is costly in art and all that is exquisite in 
luxury; but while its magnitude excites our marvel, and its 
magnificence elicits our admiration, one thing the wealth of 
India cannot purchase for it — the veneration of the beholder. 
Now this feeling the ancient home which I am regarding 
calls forth in an unusual degree, not for its costliness or its 
grandeur, but for its calm and quiet aspect, and its solemn 
preachings of the past. Embosomed among shadowy trees, 
it reposes with an air of confidence in the sheltering strength 
of the hills above it; from the heights of which, nearly two 
thousand years ago, the Roman sentinel, gazing as I do, at 



488 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

sunset, upon the glowing sea and the glorious Cambrian 
shore, must have forgotten for the moment the classic beauty 
of his own land and the scenery of his native valley. I 
know not whether the present proprietor of Clevedon Court 
has a family; but if so, why are those shady walks so silent, 
and those luxuriant flowers left to perish where they 
bloomed ? Those trees whose leaves the summer wind is 
wakening to a sound which falls on the ear with such a 
mournful cadence, need the accompaniment of merry voices. 
Those roses and creepers, which, like other fair things, pre- 
suming upon their beauty, and reckless of all restraint, are 
muffling up the oriel windows and wreathing them into 
bowers of fragrance, require the training hand and the prun- 
ing-knife " to check their wild luxuriance." In a word, 
Clevedon Court answers to my beau-ideal of an English home 
— the home of 

"A fine old English gentleman, 
All of the olden time." 

And now let us go to Wrington. It is only six miles, 
and on several accounts well worth seeing. The church 
tower, rising to a height of one hundred and forty feet, and 
surmounted by sixteen elegant Gothic turrets, is regarded as 
one of the most beautiful in the kingdom. There was origi- 
nally a pulpit attached to the wall outside of the church, as 
at St. Stephen's cathedral in Vienna, so that our English 
forefathers must have had occasional outdoor preaching, as 
well as the present generation. In that humble thatched 
cottage adjoining the church was born John Locke, the 
author of the immortal " Essay on the Human Understand- 
ing." Yonder, on the slope of that pretty hill, is Barley 
Wood, the residence of Hannah More and her sisters. 
From the picturesque scenery around she often drew her in- 
spiration, and many passages in her life and writings refer to 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 489 

fcliis pleasant locality. That spreading yew in the church- 
yard shades a monument to her memory ; but her pen has 
reared for her a better and more durable monument in the 
hearts of the wise and good. That neat little chapel, now 
occupied by the Independents, was originally built for 
Richard Allein ; and there for many years, in the times 
which tried men's souls, he fed the flock of Christ. In 1662 
he was ejected from the neighboring living of Butcombe, and 
from the Church of England; but his writings and the fruits 
of his ministry are a lasting testimony to his piety and 
worth. His name will live as long as those of John Locke 
and Hannah More. Few villages can boast of such a trio. 

Away for Weston Super Mare, twelve miles farther down 
the Channel. When I knew this place thirty-two years ago, 
it was a village of not more than six or seven hundred souls, 
and they chiefly fishermen and yeomen ; now it has a popu- 
lation of nearly as many thousand, and is one of the most 
fashionable resorts in the west of England. It is situated on 
the crescent of a broad bay which opens to the west, with a 
beautiful beach and fine facilities for bathing ; protected on 
the north and the south by parallel ranges of hills, and 
enjoying the most delightful climate to be found anywhere 
in this island. My uncle lived here, my father's only 
brother; and before the emigration of our family, I was often 
at his house to visit my little cousins. I well remember the 
last of these pleasant reunions, and how earnestly my dear 
uncle, in family prayer, implored for us the Divine protec- 
tion in our prospective voyage, and besought that we might 
meet at last in heaven. The good old man has long been 
waiting for us in that Better Land, and my aunt, now eighty- 
nine years of age, lingers in cheerful hope on this side the 
dividing stream, and talks of her removal as one talks of a 
pleasant journey. "0 yes," said she, "your uncle Edmund 
went safe ; never was there a happier death-bed. I am wait- 
21* 



490 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

ing for ray summons, not anxious, but ready : I have nothing 
to do but to die." Then she showed me all my uncle's 
class-tickets, and her own, for more than fifty years, pasted 
in a book and carefully preserved — a relic worth having, 
which I have brought with me to America. 

Will the reader pardon me if I say a word or two about a 
most interesting work of antiquity ? Worlbury Hill is a 
long and narrow ridge, running far out into the Channel, 
and forming a bold promontory above this beautiful town. 
On the top of this promontory is-a remarkable fortification, 
enclosing the remains of dwellings which must be referred 
to a period long anterior to the Roman occupation of Britain. 
Some twenty or thirty acres of ground are encircled by two 
huge walls of stone, which are surrounded by no less than 
seven successive ditches. Within the walls are traces 
of ancient habitations, and many tombs have been exca- 
vated, the occupants of which manifestly fell in battle. At 
Kewstoke, on the northern side, is a flight of rude steps, 
over two hundred in number, cut in the side of the hill, and 
conducting to the entrenchment upon its summit. These 
works are attributed, with some probability, to the ancient 
inhabitants of the island, who are believed to have worked 
the neighboring mines, and furnished the Phoenician mer- 
chants with " the chief things of the ancient mountains, and 
the precious things of the everlasting hills," three thousand 
years ago. These mines had been wrought for centuries 
before the invasion by Julius Caesar; and it is not improbable 
that the zinc which formed a component part of the bronzes 
lately exhumed from the buried palaces of Nineveh was dug 
from the Mendip hills. There are similar fortifications, to 
the number of thirty-six, forming a perfect chain, more than 
fifty miles in circuit around this rich mineral region; and 
all so located that they could easily communicate one with 
another by signals along the whole length of the line. 



PLEASANT VARIETIES. 491 

Though the Romans and the Danes successively availed 
themselves of these entrenchments, they are of a character 
totally different from those which are of Eoman or Danish 
origin, and must be referred to another people and an earlier 
date. 



492 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

SAUNTER I NGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 

TENDER RECOLLECTIONS UPHILL THE OLD CHURCH ANCIENT FOR- 
TIFICATIONS THE STEEP HOLMES A LEGEND THE FLAT HOLMES 

BLEADON — HOBBS'S BOAT LYMPSHAM CHURCH AND RECTORY 

BRENT KNOLL DELIGHTFUL VIEW BURNHAM AND THE REST. 

I remained a month in Somersetshire, peripatizing ex- 
tensively. A staff in my hand, a penny roll in my pocket, 
and a prospective glass to aid my imperfect vision, whenever 
the weather was fine, I went forth in the early morning, and 
spent the livelong clay in wandering over fields, and moors, 
and downs, and strands, all teeming with holy memories; 
and my solitary musings were fraught with the sweetest sad- 
ness, as I retraced the footsteps of my childhood, and gazed 
upon a thousand objects which were familiar to these eyes 
before they were dimmed with sorrow- From such poetic 
pilgrimages I often returned thoroughly fatigued at even- 
tide ; but the following day, with " youth renewed like the 
eagle's," I was out upon the blooming meadows and the 
breezy hills, living over again the blessed days of innocence, 
and watering with tears of love the flowers whose ancestors 
my careless feet had crushed forty years ago. Somersetshire 
has some of the finest scenery in England, and the archaeolo- 
gist and ecclesiologist will find abundant interest in its 
Belgic and Roman remains, and its grand old Norman 



SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 493 

churches ; but to me all was doubly beautiful from the asso- 
ciations of memory, and every hedge and tree and brook 
looked like a long-lost friend recovered, and the very dust 
that gathered on my sandals, as I paced the sultry street, I 
would fain have treasured as a sacred thing. 

Nothing could be more inspiring than the air, or more 
pleasing than the view, as I strayed southward along the 
strand, one bright morning in August, from Weston Super 
Mare. How often in other years, with some who have long 
been in their graves, I trod these golden sands, gathering 
the shells and sea-bottles cast up by the friendly tide ! A 
walk of three miles brought me to the residence of Esquire 
Knyfton, in the beautiful village of Uphill. It is a modern 
building, in imitation of the grand old English mansions, 
with lofty tower, and turreted porch, and massive buttresses, 
and battlemented parapet, and mullioned and transomed 
windows, having a fine lawn in front, with a variety of 
flowers and shrubbery, enclosed by a well-clipped hawthorn 
hedge and a double range of overshadowing elms — a place 
which might well make the proprietor wish for " many 
days I" A little farther on I came to the village church — a 
beautiful structure— -with its snug parsonage adjoining, 
thickly covered with roses, myrtles, jessamines, and honey- 
suckles — a true picture of English home scenery, which in 
the wide world for comfort and tranquillity is unsurpassed. 
This was once the residence of that sweet bard of nature, 
William Lisle Bowles ; and thus he alludes to Uphill in his 
" Days Departed :" 

" I was a child when first I heard the sound 
Of the great sea. 'Twas night, and journeying far, 
"We were belated on our road, 'mid scenes 
New and unknown — a mother and her child, 
Now first in this wide world a wanderer. 
My father came, the pastor of the church 



494 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

That crowns the high hill-crest above the sea : 

When, as the wheels went slow, and the still night 

Came down, a low uncertain sound was heard, 

Not like the wind. ' Listen !' my mother said, 

' It is the sea ! Listen ! it is the sea !' 

My head was resting on her lap — I woke — 

I heard the sound, and closer pressed her side." 

" The church that crowns the high hill-crest" is one 
of the greatest curiosities in Somersetshire — a quaint old 
Norman building, consisting of a nave, a chancel, a tower, 
and a porch, with only three very small windows, casting a 
light sufficiently "dim" to he "religious." There is no 
record of its origin, hut local tradition says it was built by 
Beelzebub. It does not become a stranger to impugn such 
authority, especially as tradition is the only basis of more 
than half our history. Moreover, the situation, upon a 
height almost inaccessible, and quite remote from the village, 
may be deemed some confirmation of the popular account. 
The masons began building, it is said, at the foot of the hill; 
but the work they did by day was regularly removed by 
night; till, at lengthy tired of the unequal contest, they gave 
over the effort; and the church was completed just where 
the devil wanted it ; and ugly enough, I should think, to 
answer his worst ideal ! Satan, for aught I know, may, as 
Southey supposes, possess a good degree of taste; but judg- 
ing from this specimen, he does not seem to excel in the 
department of architecture, or else he did not deem it good 
policy to make a place of worship particularly attractive. 
By the way, religious reader, may not this intermeddling 
old gentleman have had something to do with much of our 
church architecture in America ? Else why are our religious 
edifices often made as ugly as possible, and placed in the 
worst situations that can be selected ? 

I remember this old structure when it was the only place 



SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 495 

of worship for the villagers. Now it is ruinous and deserted, 
the windows gone, the roof partly fallen in, the porch look- 
ing like a bandy-legged septuagenary, and the bells that 
used to chime the worshippers so sweetly up the hill, hang- 
ing idly in the cracked and mossy tower. Yet it is allowed 
to stand as a landmark for the mariner; and it would be 
sacrilege to demolish so venerable a pile, beneath whose 
pavement and around whose walls sleep the dead of so many 
generations. I found here the graves of an uncle and aunt, 
with those of several cousins, who had been gathered to 
their rest since I was last within the enclosure, and sweet 
flowers were blossoming above the unconscious dust. 

Uphill is a little Pisgah, commanding an immense hori- 
zon, including some of the most beautiful scenery in England. 
It is the western extremity of the picturesque Mendip 
range, with only Brean Down beyond it — a rocky headland 
projecting three miles into the Bristol Channel, and looking, 
at a distance, like some huge marine monster, come forth to 
sun himself upon the margin of the sea. This lofty pro- 
montory is covered with the remains of ancient earth-works, 
from one extremity to the other; and was evidently, at some 
very remote period, strongly fortified — perhaps by the 
Britons, and afterward by the Romans, the Saxons, and the 
Danes, who are all supposed to have occupied it in succes- 
sion. Uphill also, and Bleadon Hill, two miles farther in- 
land, bear the remains of similar fortifications, consisting of 
embankments surrounded with broad and deep trenches; 
and from the very spot where the old church stands, a 
" trackway," evidently too ancient to be of Roman origin, 
has been traced some twenty miles into the interior. It is 
believed that Uphill was one of the principal ports at which 
the Phoenician ships received the products of the Mendip 
mines, many centuries before the Christian era; and these 



496 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

forts and roads, which abound in the vicinity, are referred 
to that distant period ! 

Three or four miles beyond the extremity of Brean Down, 
rises the Steep Holmes, a rocky and barren islet, from the 
very centre of the Channel. A white house, clinging to the 
side of the precipice, and gleaming in*the morning sunshine, 
tells us that even there, cradled amidst the surging waters, 
and serenaded by howling winds, dwell some of the human 
family. It was on this solitary rock tbat Gildas Bardonicus, 
the celebrated British historian and philosopher, found a 
temporary asylum during the desolating conflicts between 
the Picts, the Scots, and the Saxons, till he was driven off 
by pirates, and took refuge in the Abbey at G-lastonbury. 
Giiha, the mother of Harold, the last of the Saxon kings, 
with the wives of many Saxon thanes or noblemen, retired 
hither after the death of her son at the fatal battle of Hast- 
ings; and here remained in safety, till an opportunity 
offered for their departure to St. Outer's in Flanders. The 
Danes also, defeated upon the neighboring coast, withdrew 
to this islet in the Channel, where many of them perished 
by famine, and whence the remainder sailed for Ireland. 

There is a curious legend, current in this neighborhood, 
connected with the Danish invasion, which I recollect to 
have heard when I was a child. The Daues, landing at Up- 
hill, mooi'ed their ships, and pursued the flying inhabitants 
far into the interior. An old woman, too infirm to escape, 
concealed herself among the rocks, and aftei"ward stole out 
and cut loose the vessels. Returning from the chase, the 
Danes found their fleet floated far out to sea with the retir- 
ing tide. The routed inhabitants now rallied, and a clespe-' 
rate conflict ensued on Bleadon Hill, from which the blood 
ran down in rivulets to the plain. This event is said to have 
given name to the place- — Bloody Down — subsequently 



SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 497 

contracted into Bleadon. I will not vouch for the deriva- 
tion. 

The Flat Holmes is the twin sister of the Steep Holmes, 
and lies only two or three miles distant. It is less lofty, but 
more extensive. Its highest point bears a lighthouse, 
where nightly glows the warning and guide of the mariner. 
The island is fertile and well cultivated, and has an inn for 
the accommodation of visitors. There is fine fishing around 
it, and good bathing upon its pebbly beach; and multi- 
tudes resort hither, during the summer, from Bristol, and 
Cardiff, and many other places on both sides of the Channel. 
On this island tradition points out three graves, as the last 
resting-places of the murderers of Thomas a Becket. How 
sweetly Bowles has sung their penitence and exile in his son- 
net of "Woodspriug Abbey : 

" These walls were built by men who did a deed 
Of blood ; terrific conscience, day by day, 
Followed where'er their shadow seemed to stay, 
And still in thought they saw their victim bleed, 
Before God's altar shrieking : pangs succeed, 
As dire upon their heart the deep sin lay, 
No tears of agony could wash away. 
Hence ! to the land's remotest limit speed ! 
These walls are raised in vain, as vainly flows 
Contrition's tear : Earth, hide them ! and thou, Sea, 
Which round the lone isle where their bones repose 
Dost sound for ever, their sad requiem be, 
In fancy's ear, at pensive evening's close, 
Still murmuring — 'Miserere, Domine!' " 

But I must pursue my journey. Here is the house in 
which, long years ago, lived my Uncle Norman, where I 
used to play with my little cousins, who now lie beside their 
parents in the old churchyard yonder. And here, a mile 
and a half farther, on the beautiful slope of Bleadon Hill, is 
the cottage of my maternal Grandmother Gould, exactly as I 



498 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

saw it when I came to the old lady's funeral, in 1824. It is 
a sweet place, quite buried in massive foliage and flowering 
vines; and I do not wonder that the little "Robin Red- 
breast" chose it as her asylum from the winter storm, flut- 
tering against the window every morning till she was 
admitted, and then spending the day familiarly in the house 
with her quiet and aged friend ! At the foot of the hill is 
the church, beneath whose eaves her venerable dust reposes 
— the only remarkable building in the village. Like most 
others in this part of Somersetshire, it is very ancient, and 
built in the perpendicular or early Gothic style. The most 
interesting thing within is the octagonal stone pulpit, elabo- 
rately carved with niches and delicate tracery. There are 
many such pulpits within half a dozen miles — one at Ran- 
well, one at Hutton, one at Kewstoke, and another at Worle 
— all of which seem to have been made after the same pat- 
tern, with very little variation in the details of the ornament. 
In the middle of the eleventh century, the manor of Rleadon 
was given by Githa, the wife of Earl Godwin, to the Church 
of St. Swithen, at Winchester, in whose possession it is still 
retained. Eight hundred years have passed over the village, 
but it is now probably very much what it was then, appa- 
rently having experienced but little change. 

Here we enter upon an extensive level country, consisting 
almost entirely of pasture lands, intersected by numerous 
dykes and drains. Pursuing our way, we soon arrive at 
Hobbs's Roat — so called because there is no boat there, and 
no use for any. The supposition is, that once upon a time 
— nobody knows how long ago — a man by the name of 
Hobbs kept a ferry here, for this depression in the ground 
was the channel of the river Axe. In my boyhood, when 
we came to Rleadon to visit the venerable personage afore- 
said and her pet robin, we crossed the stream upon a sub- 
stantial bridge ; but since that, an act of parliament has 



SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 499 

been passed, empowering the river to take another course, 
of which privilege it promptly availed itself, leaving Hobbs's 
Boat high and dry, the bridge a superfluous ornament in the 
landscape, and its own bed a pasture for cattle. 

The road hence to Lympsham is as crooked as the engineer 
could well make it. The lofty leaning church tower is seen 
not more than a mile and a half distant, rising above a 
beautiful grove ; but after travelling nearly an hour, it 
seems as far off as when we first beheld it. The recollec- 
tions, however, connected with these gi*een fields and hedges, 
these pretty cottages and farm-houses, beguile the way of its 
tedium, and I go dreaming on till I reach that quiet and 
sequestered retreat, where the stranger's feet delight to lin- 
ger, and mine are chained by memory. The church and 
rectory of Lympsham present a scene purely English in its 
character ; and so pleasing that he who has seen it once 
delights often to recall the picture. Even aside from its 
associations to one who spent here the happiest portion of 
his life, it is altogether one of the most charming spots my 
eyes ever beheld. Its beauty is entirely the result, however, 
of taste and culture ; for the locality is a dead level, and 
void of all natural advantages. The projecting bay windows 
of the rectory, its pretty porch of open work, its octagonal 
turret, graceful tower, and other decorative features of the 
Tudor style, produce a most pleasing effect in domestic 
architecture ; and when united with trees and shrubbery of 
various forms and foliage, with lawns and arbors and 
luxuriant vines, it seems a place consecrated to tranquillity 
and repose, and worthy of the immortal names of Wilber- 
force and Hannah More which adorn its history. The 
same general care and elegant neatness extend to the enclo- 
sure where 

" The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." 



500 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

Those little heaps of turf, as well as the living home, are 
covered with flowers, and surrounded with an emerald carpet 
of the softest velvet, protected by an iron railing, and shaded 
by a variety of ornamental trees. It is a place where one 
might wish to lie, awaiting the resurrection ! 

For the present, however, we pass on to Brent. What a 
glorious pyramid is this Brent Knoll, rising abruptly from 
the plain to the height of a thousand feet ; as if some mighty 
hand, reached forth from the clouds, had pinched up the 
level surface, and left it there, a thing of beauty, for ever ! 
The base of the hill is about three miles in circumference. 
The first ascent, which is about four hundred feet, and very 
steep, terminates in a broad table-land, from the centre of 
which ascends a cone six hundred feet higher, which is 
rather difficult to climb. At the summit, a thousand feet 
above the plain, is a level area of about half a mile in cir- 
cuit, with a double entrenchment all around, which is evi- 
dently very ancient. I recollect that in my boyhood it was 
said many old Roman coins and weapons had been found 
here. Later excavations prove the work to be of much 
greater antiquity than the Roman invasion of Britain. That 
the Romans occupied it, indeed, is quite evident; but it 
must have been previously occupied by the Britons or the 
Belgse — perhaps both — several centuries before Christ. The 
Rev. W. Phelps, who has devoted much attention to British 
antiquities, and written a history of Somersetshire, in a paper 
presented to the Archaeological Society expresses the belief, 
and not without plausible grounds, that this and the neigh- 
boring fortifications refer to a period long antecedent to the 
invasion of Britain by the Belgic Gauls, three hundred and 
fifty years before the Incarnation, and must' be assigned to 
the earlier settlers in this part of Britain — the " Hedui," 
who worked the mines of the Mendip Hills at least seven 
hundred years before this event, and supplied the Phoenicians 



SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 501 

— the great merchants of the world — with lead, zinc, and 
iron. 

The name — Brent — is said to be derived from brennan, to 
burn, either because the Saxon dwellings and defences were 
burned by the invading Danes in the ninth century, or, more 
likely, because signal-fires were usually lighted upon the crest 
of the knoll in times of danger. The word, however, is 
Celtic — Braint — the equivalent of law; and probably the 
eminence was so called because the ancient inhabitants, in ac- 
cordance with their universal custom, published their laws 
to the assembled multitude upon the summit. 

There is a place, just at the southern base of the hill, 
called Battleborough ; and this name bears witness to an an- 
cient conflict, of which there is no other tradition. Many 
battles, indeed, were fought in the immediate vicinity of 
Brent Knoll : one between the Belgas and the Britons, B. C. 
300 ; another between the Romans and the Britons, A. D. 
50 ; another between the Marcians and the West Saxons, 
A. D. 500 ; another between the Danes and the Saxons, A. 
D. 880, when King Alfred occupied the height with his 
army. It was a favorite stronghold of the West Saxons, 
who made it their last resort, and maintained it against the 
invaders after they were dislodged from all their surrounding 
fortresses. 

It was a beautiful morning in August when I passed 
through South Brent churchyard, and ascended the hill-side, 
by a path which seemed quite familiar, though I had not 
trodden it for more than thirty-two years. Eagerly I worked 
my way up the rugged steep, nor paused to look back till I 
had gained the very summit. What a vision of beauty lay 
spread out beneath and around me ! To the west, less than 
a league distant, was the Bristol Channel, opening a broad 
vista to the Atlantic. Upon its margin stood the massive 
tower of Burnham, with its lofty lighthouse, surrounded by 



502 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

hills of sand. A little farther northward was the shining 
strand, and the white church of Berrow, and the hold pro- 
montory of Brean Down, jutting far out into the sea. 
Beyond this lay the rocky Holmes, like a huge loaf of bread, 
upon the surface of the water; and still farther the blue 
coast of Wales, with its inland mountains, rising like islands 
from the sea of mist that concealed their base. To the north 
and east ran the bare Mendip Hills, with a score of bright 
villages reposing along their sides. And there yawned the 
dark gorge of Cheddar, as if some mighty hand from the sky 
had smitten through the mountain. And Glastonbury Tor, 
upon its lofty pyramid, stood out in bold relief against the 
southern horizon. And to the right lay the memorable field 
of Sedgemoor, and the town of Bridgewater, and the River 
Barret, and Enmore Castle, and the Quantock Hills, and a 
succession of bold headlands along the channel stretching 
away to Cornwall. It was a charming panorama; and the 
sky was as bright, and the air as balmy, as those of the fair 
Lucanian coast. the luxury of this soft summer wind, re- 
galing the sense with every delicacy of freshening perfume ! 
I sat me down, and feasted eye and soul upon the picture 
before me. Within sight, and almost at my feet, were the 
house where I was born, and the church in which I was bap- 
tized. Two miles farther was the old tower of Lympsham, 
beneath whose shadow I was initiated into the mysteries of the 
alphabet ; the white cottage, half-mantled with vines, where 
I spent the happiest eight years of my life ; the fields over 
which I wandered so often with my little brothers and 
cousins, plucking the yellow cowslips, or gathering the pur- 
ple sloes; my dear old grandmother's cottage, peeping out 
from its embowering emerald on the green slope of Bleadon, 
up which, hand in hand, we who have been separated so far 
and so long, bounded merrily together; and within the 
ample sweep of the encircling hills, a hundred other objects 



SAUNTERINGS IN SOMERSETSHIRE. 503 

and localities, every one of which, called np some vivid 
picture of the past. I sat and dreamed. In one brief hour, 
I lived all my childhood over again. Words are vain, to 
paint the holy memories, the sweet melancholy, the raptures 
of love and sorrow, which steal over the heart in such an 
hour ! 

Hence to Burnham, where I find a number of relations 
still living, and others in the churchyard, whom I knew and 
loved so many years ago ! This is a popular summer resort, 
situated on the Bridgewater Bay, just where the Parret and 
the Brue enter the Bristol Channel. It is a small village, 
but delightfully located, and has a magnificent beach, with 
fine facilities for bathing. The coast is flat and low, and 
must be frequently inundated by the sea, were it not for the 
vast heaps of sand which form its natural defence. These 
sand-hills — or, as they are provincially called, "zontotts" — 
are covered with coarse grass and weeds, and afford a home 
for innumerable rabbits which perforate them in every direc- 
tion. The entrance of the river Parret is very dangerous, 
and here Alfred the Great is said to have been wrecked after 
his misfortunes with the Danes. There is now, and has been 
for many years, a fine lighthouse for the greater safety of 
mariners entering the port. The old records mention the 
priory of Burnham : of which, however, there are no traces 
remaining, not even a tradition of its locality. The manor 
was one of those given by King Ina to the Abbots of Glas- 
tonbury, and held by them till the monastery was subverted 
and destroyed. The church is a majestic old structure, with 
a tower of huge proportions ; which, like the more graceful 
one of Lympsham, declines somewhat from the perpendicular. 
I think the bells in its upper story are the clearest and sweet- 
est I ever heard ; and when they are rung in the stillness of 
the evening — not chimed like our Charleston bells — there is 
magic in their music. There is a fine Grecian altarpiece in 



504 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

the church, designed and sculptured by Inigo Jones 5 origi- 
nally placed, by Sir Christopher Wren, amid the Gothic 
glories of Westminster Abbey; but, on the coronation of 
G-eorge the Fourth, removed from so absurd a position, and 
placed in the scarcely less absurd one which it now occupies. 
In the churchyard are several tombstones, inscribed with the 
name of Locke, and belonging to the family of the immortal 
John. The vicarage was for many years the favorite resort 
of the learned Dr. King, Bishop of Rochester, and editor of 
Burke, who had formerly been vicar of the parish. 

But I will not weary thee, patient reader, with the inci- 
dents, doubtless much more interesting to myself than others, 
of my fortnight's sojourn at Burnharn; my morning strolls 
on Berrow Strand, and evening walks on Brean Down ; the 
beautiful phenomenon of the mirage which I witnessed there, 
and the super- Italian sunsets I beheld over the Bristol Chan- 
nel; a trip to Mark, and Wedmore, and Axbridge, and the 
Chiddar Cliffs, and the subterranean glories of their Stalac- 
tite Cavern; an excursion across the heath, skirting the field 
of Sedgemoor, to old monkish Glastonbury, with its won- 
drous Tor, and ruined Abbey, and memorials of the unfor- 
tunate Abbot Whiting, and the staff of Joseph of Arima- 
thea, which, after having walked with it from Jerusalem 
hither, he stuck into the soil on the side of the hill, where 
it still flourishes as a vigorous thorn-tree, and blossoms every 
Christmas ! 



HEART-RECORDS. 505 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

HEART-RECORDS. 

HOME OF MT CHILDHOOD INTERESTING COLLOQUY ACROSS THE DAISY- 
FIELDS TO LYMPSHAM THE WESLEYAN CHAPEL ANOTHER COLLOQUY 

THE PARISH CHURCH THE CHURCHYARD AND ITS OCCUPANTS 

AN OLD FRIEND EAST BRENT CHURCH SOUTH BRENT CHURCH 

AN EVENING SCENE THE BURNHAM BELLS "HAIL COLUMBIA!" 

Still in Somersetshire. This name is Saxon, and signifies 
"Pleasant Country;'' and if the best climate in the king- 
dom, the most beautiful shores and strands, picturesque 
islands and promontories, segregated hills in the midst of 
extensive plains, wide fields of golden corn, the richest of 
pasture-lands, the noblest sheep and cattle, incomparable 
butter and cheese, well-loaded orchards, sweet rural villas, 
hedgerows of living verdure, church-towers of unrivalled 
elegance, and chimes of iEolian melody, are circumstances 
to please the human senses, then Somersetshire is not un- 
worthy of its distinction. 

Well, I am in Somersetshire, the "Pleasant Country;" 
and certainly no country ever looked more pleasant to me — 
not even Italy, with its vine-clad hills, and groves of olive 
and orange, and Campagna strewn with ruins, and the sun- 
sets which glorify its skies, and the histories which hallow 
its soil — than this same Somersetshire, when I came down 
from London. Time can never efface, as language can never 
22 



506 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

describe ; the feelings with which I then surveyed these 
flowery pastures and romantic hills. If you can imagine, 
dear reader, how Adam would have felt, after thirty-two 
years of exile from the blessed garden, toiling over the 
thorny and thistly earth, burying his Abel in his blood, 
beholding his Cain an accursed fugitive, to have found him- 
self again at the seraph-guarded gate, and to have seen the 
heavenly sentinel sheathe his flaming sword and beckon him 
to enter, then you may imagine something of my feelings 
as I rushed toward the cottage of my nativity ! 

It was with difficulty, at first, that I could recognize the 
place. The Bristol and Exeter Railway, which passes close by, 
had been constructed since I was last here ; and old houses had 
been demolished ; and new houses had been erected ; and all 
things, like myself, had changed. Soon, however, I began to 
identify one object after another, till the whole assemblage 
seemed perfectly familiar, and the realities of childhood came 
back as vivid as the scenes of yesterday. Then the quick- 
thorn-hedge, which I watched my father planting when I 
was only five years old, gave me a smiling welcome ; and the 
apple-trees beneath which I stood, handing him the scions as 
he grafted them, stretched out their generous arms, and 
offered me their golden fruit; and the good old yew at the 
end of the garden-walk, as I sat down at its roots, and heard 
the wind among its branches, seemed to say to me, " So you 
are returned to your old playground ; but where have you 
been so long? and where are Eliza and your three little 
brothers?" ........ 

My overburdened heart was relieved, and I arose and 
walked toward the cottage. A feeble and wrinkled old 
woman stood at the door, and the following dialogue ensued : 

" Good morning ! Who lives in this house ?" 

" John Fear deh leeve here, Zur." 

" Does he own the place V 



HEART-RECORDS. 507 

"Awn et — ah, teh be shower eh do ; an eh have vor theaz 
twenty yers an moor." 

" Indeed ! And of whom did he buy it ?" 

" Eh bought et o' Meeaster Collins, as had et o' Jarge 
Cross, as went teh 'Murica moor'n. a scawr an half o' yers 
agone." 

" Did you know G-eorge Cross V f 

" Knaw en — te be shower I did. I deh mind en vurry 
well, bless ee ; an I deh mind Lizzy, too, an ael the children, 
gooneh. Theh had nine, an theh be ael gone teh 'Murica 
vor moor'n thirty yers." 

" Have you ever heard any thing of the family since they 
went to America ?" 

"Ees, Zur, a scawr o' times; an two o' the bwahs, I deh 
hier, be Wesleyan preachers ; an poor Lizzy be dead theaz 
vifteen er zixteen yers, I 'spooez ) an one er two o' the chil- 
dern be dead too, I deh think. But Jarge were here, an 
one o' es zuns wee en, about a dozen yers agone ; an the tears 
did hern down the good awld man's feeace, an I thawt eh 
mus be zarry that eh ever went awah vrom es country." 

" Do you remember the names of any of the boys ?" 

" Ees, Zur; I deh sim teh mind ivery one o' em. Theear 
were John — he were the awldest; an than theear were 
William, an Harry, an Jarge, an Liza, an Jozzeph, an Moses, 
an Aaron, an Benny. Benny were the youngest o' em, an 
the poor fellow were adrowued. Liza were the awnly 
daeghter, an Moses and Aaron were twins." 

" Do you think you would know any of them if you should 
see them ?" 

" Well, I deh sim I should, yeh knaw ; but than theear 
tis a long time, an vurry likely I should'en. Lord bless ee, 
Znr ! ee beeaut nern o' 'em, be ee?" 

"Yes; I am Joseph " 



508 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

My dear reader, you must imagine the rest : I have no 
colors for the picture. 

The above will answer at least for a specimen of the " Zum- 
merzet" dialect, to which indeed I have scarcely done justice, 
for it is extremely difficult to express some of the sounds in 
writing. 

Now I had the freedom of the premises, and the old woman 
conducted me up stairs and down stairs, among the currant- 
bushes and raspberry-briers, and showed me the wall-flowers 
and carnations that my dear mother had cultivated so long 
ago, and the outhouse in which " Little Joe" used to build 
his pulpits, and preach to his sister and three younger 
brothers; and her tears seemed to lubricate her superan- 
nuated tongue, and her stream of talk was interlarded with 
exclamations of infinite astonishment, as she recounted the 
vicissitudes of time and fortune; and my ear and heart 
drank in, with unspeakable satisfaction, this voice from the 
past ; and I deemed that dear old dialect the sweetest elo- 
quence I had ever heard ! 

Loaded with fruits, and flowers, and verbal blessings, I 
took my departure across the sweet daisy-fields of Lympsham, 
along the very footpath by which my father led me to church 
on Sunday, and my sister to school on the weekday, two 
score years ago. A mile distant, I could see the white bat- 
tlements of the rectory peeping out from their bowers of 
verdure, and the lofty church-tower rising gracefully over 
the tops of the surrounding elms. But before I had pro- 
ceeded far, three diverging paths puzzled me ; and a lad, of 
whom I inquired the way, gave me the following directions : 
" Ee deh goo down thick wah agin ee deh come to a styel, 
an than ee deh goo droo a grown ael vull o' gripes, an ee'l 
zee a berge wee a pyer awver the rheen, an ee deh volly the 
leean to the archid geeat, and theear be Lympsham Chapel 



HEART-RECORDS. 517 

visions of the past do those magical tones bring with them ! 
Excuse me, unpoetic reader, if I turn my feelings into verse. 

The Burnham bells ! The Burnham bells ! 

I heard them when a boy ; 
And churchward, o'er the yellow moor, 

I ran with childish joy : 
My Sabbath had no sorrow then, 

My worship no alloy. 

And when o'er Berrow's shining strand 

We trod so blithe and gay, 
Or climbed Brent's Knoll's embattled crest 

To breathe the balm of May, 
How often paused our sportive train 

To list that pleasing lay ! 

And when the bridal-gem bedecked 

Our fair young cousin's brow, 
And in the holy place she knelt 

To seal her maiden vow, 
How pealed the merry Burnham bells, 

As they are pealing now ! 

And when the Christmas Eve came round, 

And joy was everywhere, 
And youthful glee made sober age 

Forget its heavy care, 
What wreaths of melody they wove 

Upon the wint'ry air ! 

And when the annual feast was spread, 

And, as the season true, 
Together to our childhood's home 

The dear ones fondly drew, 
How rang they out the good old year, 

And welcomed in the new ! 

'Tis more than thirty Christmas eves, 
And New-Years' festivals — 



518 A YEAR IN EUROPE. 

And I have pressed such loving hearts, 
And breathed such sad farewells — 

Since last I listened to your song, 
Ye mellow Burnham bells I 

For I have strayed in foreign lands, 
And found a foreign home ; 

And love has withered at my side, 
And beauty ceased to bloom ; 

And what I valued more than life 
Has vanished in the tomb. 

I've lost the light elastic tread, 
My hair is whitening now, 

And Care his cruel lines has left 
Engraven on my brow ; 

And where is youthful Innocence ? 
And where, sweet Hope, art thou? 

The house where first I hailed the day 
I now through tears behold, 

The grove beside the pleasant hill 
Of emerald and gold ; 

For there the stream of my young life 
Mid scenes of beauty rolled. 

How oft along this fragrant bank 
I wandered wild and free ! 

How oft in boyish games engaged 
Around that old elm tree ! 

But where are all the little feet 
That ranged the fields with me ? 

The primrose and the violet, 

Which then the hedge perfumed, 

The daisy and the buttercup, 

Still bloom as erst they bloomed ; 

But she for whom I gathered them 
Was long ago entombed. 



HEART-RECORDS. 519 

The mound that marked the grave is gone, 

The place is seldom shown, 
And age has quite obscured the name 

Recorded on the stone; 
But that sweet face, ye Burnham bells, 

Returns with your sweet tone ! 

Ring on — your blessed minstrelsy 

Rolls back the wheel of time ! 
Ring on — my Eden blooms anew 

Beneath your holy chime ! 
Ring on — I never more may list 

Your melody sublime ! 

"And here will I make an end." Why should I tell of 
tearful partings ? On the fourteenth day of November we 
embarked in the steamship Vanderbilt for New York. Two 
days, and Boreas comes waltzing over the waters, and Nep- 
tune rises to resent the intrusion. The Vanderbilt takes a 
hand in the affray — tries to knock the stars out of the sky 
with her stern, or poke a hole in the bottom of the ocean 
with her bowsprit. Six days the elemental war continues ; 
the passengers retire to their berths in sublime disgust, and 
the scribe very rationally suspects himself of insanity. 
The French cook jumps overboard, and is lost. A passen- 
ger fractures his skull by a fall against the sharp corner of 
the wheel-house, and the next day we commit him to the 
deep. The second Sabbath brings calmer weather, and the 
scribe is preaching to the passengers. Another storm, 
fiercer and fouler than the former. Alas for " those that go 
down to the sea in ships I" Thursday morning, the twenty- 
sixth of November, 1857, I stand upon the deck of a 
steamer all shrouded with ice, and sing more joyously than 
ever I sang before — 

"Hail, Columbia, happy land!" 



uny -j in/ 7 



